Tantrum and Tenderness
by Mona Lisa23
Summary: Col. Tavington and his Green Dragoons are chasing the colonials with infinite ruthlessness. On that occasion they get hold of Judith, a farm girl of the colonies, and a multitude of emotions is flaring up...
1. Clouds of Smoke

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 1 - Clouds of Smoke

The huge clouds of smoke that came straight from the direction of the farm warned of very bad things. Judith was on her way to see Sarah. They'd been close friends ever since and Sarah had asked Judith for her help with some needlework. Sarah was expecting a baby, and her dresses had grown tight in the waist as her pregnancy progressed.

As Judith saw the black smoke rising, a horrible thought occurred to her: What if Sarah got injured? A darkened fear took hold of her. She let her knitting basket drop to the ground as she rushed forward to find out what had happened.

Judith reached the yard and found it crowded with soldiers, men attired in regal red coats on horses. For a moment, she was paralyzed with fright, for it was a troop of Green Dragoons! Flames were quickly engulfing the tiny cottage and no one seemed to care. _"Where is Sarah?"_ Judith's mind raced with the thoughts of her best friend's delicate condition. In spite of her fear of the British soldiers Judith slowly approached the gathering, looking about anxiously for her dearest friend. Finally she spotted Sarah, crying hysterically as she frantically spun about in the midst of soldiers.

"For heavens sake, Sarah, what's going on here?" Judith shouted in a worried voice while she did her best to force her way through the crowd of soldiers and horses. At the moment, nothing was more important to Judith than lending Sarah her assistance. She fought her way into the yard and raced to Sarah.

Once by her friend's side, she put her arms around Sarah to give her some shelter.

"Thank God, you are here!" Sarah gave a relieved sigh, "Judith, please, help me!"

"Ssh, Sarah, ssh. Calm down, calm down. You mustn't get so excited. Think of your baby. Calm down. Of course I will help you", Judith reassured her.

Then she glared around to the mob of soldiers and cried angrily, "How can you watch this and do nothing?" She stared accusingly at them; utterly amazed they seemed rather unbothered by the destruction and devastation that took place before them. "Do something or the house will burn to the ground!" Judith demanded.

"Well Madam, you see, that's exactly our intent," declared a cold voice that spoke up from behind her.

Judith quickly whipped around and found herself in front of the commander of the Green Dragoons, who was sitting on his horse watching her closely from his elevated position. Judith shuddered with dread under his piercing stare. There was something very cruel and wicked hidden in his eyes. And now that she was well aware of his presence, she realized all too late that the feeling of foreboding that had weighed heavily in her heart since the moment she had drawn near the burning cottage, was the omen of his evil.

Sarah was so horrified that she had taken cover behind Judith's back and glimpsed with fearful eyes over her friend's shoulder, whispering in Judith's ear, "They accuse me of being a traitor and they say that I'm going to be punished for this... But I'm not a traitor; I've never betrayed anybody. You need to tell them that they are wrong."

Judith gathered her courage, though drenched in the ominous suspense that filled the air, and stepped forward. "But, Sir," she spoke politely as she forced herself to address the man she assumed was the Dragoon's leader. His condescending tone when replying to her call for aid and his pompous expression of annoyed irritation as he rolled his eyes while she continued to make her plea, told her she was indeed correct, "Is that right? You hold my friend for a traitor! I'm sure that is a misunderstanding. Please Sir, can you not see, this woman is with child. She may very well lose her baby if you continue to scare her like this. Please Sir, I beg of you, have mercy on her and her child."

Infuriated at the thought that this simple insignificant woman was to spoil his fun, he viciously peered down at her. Suddenly, he dismounted and swiftly stepped up to her, standing face to face. Even without sitting on a horse, this man was an imposing threat. Commanding and tall, his perfectly fitted uniform showed off his strong and strapping physique. His mere presence as he stood before her in silence was intimidating. Truly, everything about his appearance proved him to be far more powerful and superior than all others under his control.

Judith dared not move while he stood before her, staring heartlessly down at her. Those cold blue eyes revealed nothing to her. There was not the faintest glimmer of his soul present within their icy hue. Never before had she had a stronger feeling of being at the mercy of another person.

"She might lose her child, you say?" he replied arrogantly in a hushed whisper, taunting her by maliciously smiling, playing the part of a concerned gentleman. He then continued loudly for all to hear, "I am Colonel William Tavington of His Majesty's Royal Army, I am the commander of the Green Dragoons. And I would not worry about her losing her child, for I can assure you, she will be dead before that happens."

Judith froze in horror, and blurted, "Good Gracious! Have you gone mad, Sir? Why would you want to harm this woman, she's just an innocent woman who is expecting a child!" The words escaped her too quickly to be stopped.

Unfazed by her outburst, Colonel Tavington replied, "We have information that she is the wife of a man who fights in the colonial militia."

"But, Sir, I beg you, please be reasonable... First and foremost, she is a civilian. She has nothing to do with this war, even if her husband fights. She is innocent... Please reconsider… Don't lay hands on a pregnant woman! I beseech you, have mercy on her...", Judith interrupted him, hastily grabbing at his regal red coat, in her best effort to sway him.

"We're at war, Madam!" The Colonel shouted as he slapped her hands away as if Judith was nothing more to him but bothersome blowflies. He cut her appeals for his sympathy short by clarifying, "This innocent woman, as you call her, is the wife of a man who fights for enemy. That makes her guilty of treason."

"I don't care about this war! I care about my friend and her child!" Judith yelled, overcome with rage at his unfair attitude where women and children were concerned. "I didn't ask for this war, and neither did she. Be a gentleman, Sir, let her go!" Judith demanded, standing just as tall and mighty as he.

As she stepped forward, in an attempt to push past the Colonel one of the soldiers standing nearest her spoke up and said, "No, Judith, don't!"

Although the words were whispered Judith recognized the voice. "James!" Judith asked in disbelief, turning about on her heel to look him in the face. And she was correct, it was in fact James Wilkins. Before he had joined the King's army, James had never missed an opportunity to pay court to her, even if his advances had remained unrequited each and every time.

"This is your fault? You brought them here? No, it can't be…" Judith stammered, trying to understand the situation that had unfolded before her.

"Ah, I see, you know each other?" Colonel Tavington sneered.

James Wilkins' eyes danced between Judith and his superior officer, attempting to make his lips move.

"Now, Captain Wilkins, why don't you let us know on whose side this woman stands? Where do her loyalties lie?" Colonel Tavington mockingly queried, as he looked down at his gloved hands, fixing each finger straight, pretending to give his subordinate not the tiniest bit of his attention.

James Wilkins knew he had to reply. After all, he was asked a question by his commanding officer and there was no way Colonel William Tavington would accept silence from those under his command. In his time serving under the Colonel, James Wilkins had seen enough to know that the epithet 'The Butcher' was well earned.

Feverishly he searched for the right words. He knew they had to be chosen very well now, for this time nobody else's but dear Judith's safety was at stake. Despite the fact that she had always preferred to give him the cold shoulder instead of any answer to all his advances and letters, he still had a strong liking for her.

"Well, Sir, she is... I mean...she was…b-but…now…she is…" He stuttered and stumbled over his sentence.

"Come to the point, Captain Wilkins!" Tavington impatiently raised his voice.

"As far as I know, she has never said or done anything that would make me question her loyalty to King and Country, Sir," James anxiously answered. "Being just a woman, she has little knowledge, if any, of these things. You know how women are, Colonel, they are usually not smart enough to understand the politics of war..."

Judith eyes narrowed in anger, and she cut James off loudly: "I've never taken a side, either for or against King and Country. But now, I do!"

James Wilkins closed his eyes.

"What King is this who reigns above his subjects by oppressing them?" Judith went on unafraid. "Freedom and peace is the only desire found in the hearts and souls of every man that live on these lands. If you really think that you can stop history's course by killing helpless people, you are very much mistaken, Sir! You would have to kill every single person not wearing a redcoat if you want to stop this."

"If that's the case, Madam, and you understand the King's army will do whatever it takes to keep the colonies, then you will appreciate our swiftness and lack of mercy when doing so." Colonel Tavington took one step back from Judith and sneered, "If we are going to have to kill everyone not wearing a redcoat, we had better start right now!"

A shot rang out. Sarah, who had watched the whole exchange from afar in silent weeping, fell to her knees.

"Oh my God, my baby!" Sarah moaned in agony as she held her hands over her expanded waist where the immaculate soul of her unborn child dwelled. Her face was one of indescribable anguish as she screamed in pain, misery and grief.

"Sarah!" Judith shrieked aghast at the heinous display of merciless killing before her. As Sarah collapsed on the ground, Judith raced to her side.

Sarah, a good woman, a loyal wife and expectant mother had been shot in the belly. In a vain attempt Judith tried to stop the blood pouring from Sarah's wound by covering it with her bare hands.

"No, Sarah, no! Don't die. You must not die, Sarah!" With tears pouring down her face, Judith repeated over and over again as she held Sarah's extended hand that became weaker and weaker.

Most of the Green Dragoons turned away and lowered their heads. Not even the most loyal that fought alongside Colonel Tavington, wanted to witness that degrading scene.

"I believe it was you who asked me to be merciful. Hmm?" Tavington asked sarcastically.

Without waiting for Judith to answer, as she still kneeled at her dying friend's side with her back turned upon him, Colonel Tavington fired his weapon a second time. Sarah's weeping, her prayers whispered through labored breath, and her groaning as she endured the pain of her injury ceased instantly. Sarah lay on the ground in a pool of her own blood, her empty gaze fixed up to the sky. The first bullet had pierced her belly, the second bullet had met her straight between the eyes. She was dead.

In a reflex of terror, Judith rose to her feet and stood, rooted in her spot, staring at the lifeless body.

"What have you done?" she wept desperately. She refused to believe what her eyes saw. Tears rained down her beautiful cheeks.

Beneath the mourning Judith felt another stronger emotion welling up. An almighty fury had taken hold of her. How could one be so coldhearted? How could this man regard a faithful wife and expecting mother as no more than acceptable casualty?

Hastily, as she acted on impulse alone, Judith whipped around and slammed her clenched fist with unexpected power right into Colonel Tavington's face. Her hand left a trace of Sarah's blood on his cheek.

Utterly surprised by such an attack, and unprepared for the force of her anger, Tavington reeled back slightly dazed. But Judith's feeling of revenge was not yet appeased. Again she flew at him wildly, letting her hands and fists land upon his body where they may. She closed her eyes and hit, punched and slapped as hard as she could manage, using everything she had in her against him.

After a short scuffle Tavington finally got the upper hand, and he was now shaking with rage. He harshly grasped a handful of her hair.

"How dare you lay your filthy hands on me, you disrespectful loud-mouth little whore! If you want to fight, we shall fight…" He snarled angrily as he put his weapon to her head.

Although convinced that her fate was sealed, Judith managed to stare back and hold his gaze courageously as if unafraid to die. Colonel Tavington felt his irritation increase while looking into those proud eyes that didn't seem to fear him at all. Oh no, he was not about to give her that satisfaction!

"Dying with a bullet in your head is far too good for you," Colonel Tavington declared and removed the pistol from her temple. "You see, Madam," he corrected, hissing in her ear, "First you would learn to fear me and then I will kill you."

Brutally, Colonel Tavington dragged Judith to the direction of the outbuildings. Nobody dared to interfere knowing that she was irrevocably left to the tender mercies of the Colonel now.

Panic-stricken Judith struggled against his hostile handlings. But it seemed the more she defended herself the firmer his grip became and the rougher he treated her.

Judith did manage to get hold of a stake of the clothesline, which she gripped with all her might to stop her way in the unknown. But her mighty efforts were futile at best. The result left the cloth of her dress ripped and all but torn off. The simple cotton garment she had stitched herself could not withstand the tugging and pulling of the Colonel's strong grip. Thus, Judith was now being yanked bare-shouldered. She shrieked, terrified at the thought of being seen in this way by a man, half dressed, and earned a resounding slap to her face. Judith dared not fight back any further, and so, resolute in his rage, Colonel Tavington continued to haul her along with him. Nothing would stop him!

A fact that James Wilkins was also well aware of. Helplessly he had had to witness the murder of Sarah and now again he was condemned to watch Judith meeting her fate with tied hands. At the same time he was both shocked and impressed as Judith indeed had turned violent. He understood her anger and knew Tavington deserved the slap in the face. And yet, he would have wanted to keep her from doing so, to spare her whatever was to come. No one was allowed to correct a man like Colonel William Tavington, no matter how much it was warranted.

Meanwhile, Judith in tow, Tavington had stomped unrelentingly across the yard into one of the barns, where his further actions would be hidden from prying eyes.


	2. The End of a Virgin

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 2 – The End of a Virgin

Judith had kept her eyes closed tightly the entire time she was dragged. As his feet, all but carried hers, she tripped, fell and was yanked up repeatedly; their pace a mad dash to wherever it was the Colonel of the Green Dragoons was taking her.

Suddenly, they stopped. And Judith opened her eyes.

She found herself standing before him in a remote barn, somewhere on the property. And her lost expression and constant whimpering angered him all the more, egging his already furious disposition onward.

Overcome by his rage he pushed her down hard into a carriage.

Dazed by the violent landing she quickly bounded forward and dropped down on her knees. Judith was unable to think, just the emotions that welled up within her, imagining what he was to do next, left her reeling.

At the same time, Tavington's eye peered about the inside of the barn. Soon enough, he'd found what he'd been looking for. He casually took off his jacket and strode over to an abandoned, empty carriage where he had spotted a horsewhip. He picked it up and with frightening skill let it cut through the air against the carriage to test its applicability.

Judith looked up and was shocked at what she saw. Colonel Tavington grasped the horsewhip in his hand, molded to his fingers. It appeared as if he had been born with it there in his right hand. He had only taken a few steps in her direction as she quickly rose from the ground. He continued forward and she equally stepped back in retreat until her body hit the far wall of the barn.

Observing Judith's futile attempt to thwart his advance, Tavington snickered. Tucking the whip under his arm, he decided to take his time and make her suffer. First, he finished his work on her clothing. As he pulled his dagger from its sheath, Judith stared blankly into his malicious eyes without blinking. The Colonel's dagger shredded the upper part of her dress without care or concern. The cold blade kept cutting until it reached her waist.

Judith covered her bared breasts with her arms, imploringly shaking her head, silently pleading with him not to continue this.

But her begging couldn't mollify his wretchedly unforgiving heart. He had no sympathy for her. He wiped his sweaty, angered face with a shirtsleeve and found traces of blood splattered upon it. It was the blood of that dead pregnant woman and he was vividly reminded of how this blood had found its way to his cheek. Judith's impudence to slap him in the face infuriated him beyond all measure.

„To hell with it!" he spat at her, „I will make you pay for this...for all of this!"

And even though Judith had not really understood his words nor their meaning, she was lost in panicked fear. Tavington's face told her all she would ever need to know of the punishment for her actions she was about to receive. Whimpering she stood in front of her tormentor and knew there was to be no mercy, at least not for her.

Horrendous pain surged through her body when the first thrash descended on her delicate skin. Judith tried to run, but could not escape. There was only one thing she could do to protect herself from his brutal attack. She raised her arms, doing her best to cover her head and face. Soon she wasn't able to differentiate the pain from one whiplash to the other. This needless demonstration of power was executed so thoroughly by him that no part of her body was spared and all poor Judith could do was suffer it.

Consumed with his own self-disgust he rained blow after blow upon her. The attempt to protect that pregnant woman, her friend, whose name he had already forgotten, not to mention Judith's audacity to question his plans, left Colonel William Tavington angry, but still in control. It was the slapping of his face that was a personal declaration of war and would not go unavenged. His authority had been blemished - marred by a woman, and to make matters even worse, she was just a simple farm girl of the colonies.

There was no denying that Judith's beautiful, once self-assured appearance had caught Tavington's attention at first glance. And even he was sure in different circumstances it would have impressed him. But having underestimated her so greatly infuriated him all the more.

The example he was to make of her would not only be a warning to those who thought they might oppose to the Crown, but would also have to restore the respect of his men and his title as well. No one was to ever discredit him in such a manner. And as far as this farm girl was concerned, he would not leave her until he was positive he had successfully broken not only her pride but her stubborn willfulness as well.

It was only then, as he gasped out of breath, trying to make sense of all that was happening, all that had happened in his mind, that he stopped whipping her.

Crumpled up like a bundle of misery, Judith lay half-naked and sobbing at his feet. For the fear of being beaten again, she didn't dare to raise her head to see where he was and what he was doing. And simply enough, in her current condition and fatal situation, she did not care. All her limbs ached. In her distress she found refuge in the unfathomable childish belief that he wouldn't be there anymore if she only couldn't see him. She closed her eyes and prayed, lost in that silly daydream. Thus, Judith startled all the more when she was fiercely shoved suddenly on her back. Unable to realize the impending doom, she did all that was left to do. Just let the evil Colonel of the Green Dragoons have his way, unquestioned.

Colonel William Tavington had bent above her and examined his work. The more he gazed at her the more she appeared like a special gift that was only to be entirely unwrapped by him. He had seen a lot of women as bare as on the day they were born, so it was not really a surprise for him to discover their female attributes, he found so desirable. But in Judith's case something was different. Of all the women he'd had, she held something in her that set her apart from the rest. And oddly enough, it seemed to be the plain and simple fact that she was not yet as naked as she could have been. The last rags of her dress, still covering her partly, left essential parts of her body to his imagination. This half-nakedness veiled her with an unintended yet irresistible charm, and that was exactly what attracted him enormously. Beyond the blood and the damage he had caused, he was enthralled by this sight of her. Enthralled and excited, and not even close to being done with her yet. He reached for his dagger and got on his knees right next to her.

Judith was scared to death when she saw him beside her with the dagger in his hand. Only too well were his words still echoing in her ears as she suddenly remembered his announcement: „...and then I will kill you...kill you... kill you." She believed her last hour had come and closed her eyes.

But he didn't strike her. Instead he ferociously yanked her skirts up past her hips. Tavington, her executor, wasted no time; he simply cut her bloomers and tore them off her body. Without much ado he had cleared his path to her most intimate womanly parts.

And he was very pleased with what he saw. The rest of his self-given gift was very appealing and lived up to his expectation perfectly. Her long legs were firm and immaculate, smooth, soft skin ran waist to toe and he was happy his cruel torture of only moments ago had spared their perfection. The entrance to her womanhood was guarded and well hidden within curls of brunette hair that grew from the most intimate part of her body, masking the treasures within. Delighted, he took notice of the obvious reaction of his own body. He was quite ready for her.

Tavington let his dagger drop and nimbly unbuttoned his breeches. As he moved to get out of his trousers, Judith was granted a very short reprieve that enabled her to finally breathe. That was until he mounted her and she shrieked with horror as she caught her first glimpse at what made him a male, his threateningly huge, erect member.

Judith, who had never been with a man before, had no idea of what he would do next. But on instinct alone, she knew she had to prevent his actions by any means possible. She put up a fierce resistance to get free. All for nought: Judith was fighting a loosing battle. The weight of his body, now resting above her, left no room for objection. And still she fought. Desperately she kicked at him and wriggled like a fish caught and captured on a hook.

To end her rather annoying behavior, he gripped her by the wrists and forced her to the ground violently. All at once, without any warning, he slid in between her legs, hissing, "Be still!" as he entered her savagely.

She instantly felt a sharp, shocking torment at the impasse of her virginity, deep inside of her. It had been the most enshrined part of her womanhood; unfortunately, she had not even known it had existed before that moment.

"Noooo!" she screamed. „Stop! Please don't", she begged him, choking through the tears that flooded her face, her voice cracking in the agony.

That only made his experience more enjoyable, for now he could easily slip his tongue in her mouth, pleasuring his own unlawful desires. With his mouth pressed harshly to hers, she could hardly breathe. He touched his tongue to her own, playfully teasing her, like a cat with its prey.

Truly for Judith, it was the kiss of death. Each attempt to push him back was fruitless. Finally she resigned herself to fate and submitted to the unceasing rhythm he dictated, the Colonel controlling, dominating each hard and painful thrust with fearlessly experienced precision. 

Filled with satisfaction of his unforgivable deed, he noted how she tried to defend herself at first with all her might, how she struggled against the humiliation. But finally she gave in and bowed to the inevitable. Now she was nothing more but a piece of flesh that had to submit to his power.

Relentlessly, he ravaged her body. The thrusts with which he penetrated into the innermost parts of her body became mercilessly harder and faster.

Desperately she cried for help, begged him to stop, till she finally could do nothing else but whimper and bear it. She had to accept the fact that she had no means to stop him from taking possession of her body. But he would never take her soul! So she abandoned her body to Tavington and tried to escape with her mind from this martyrdom her body was trapped in.

With her obviously defeated, Tavington's former arrogant and imperious old self returned. He noticed that there was not the tiniest little bit of resistance from her any more. He looked at Judith and found that she was staring apathetically at the ceiling of the barn lying still as a dead fish, captured on his hook. Very well, he was the conqueror of this battle. But he was not going to waste his precious male good to this corpse-like body of that woman. He wouldn't allow her to foil him and his plans a second time. He wanted to possess her entirely and he had his means to get her entirely. Therefore he suddenly pulled back ceasing himself from progressing any further. 

"Thank you dearest Lord, it's over..." Judith thought when he removed from her. But instead of relief, Judith only felt the ravaged, gaping hole that had once been her womanhood. She felt deeply ashamed for not having even the will left to close her legs that were so indiscreetly left spread wide, leaving her completely exposed. She realized quickly that he was watching her, and so she turned her head aside not wanting to be under his stare. She closed her eyes to escape from his prying eyes, into the darkness of her imagination where she would be hidden from his sight, alone with her anguish and shame. Not daring to move, she simply remained lying in the way she was.

Colonel Tavington had got to his feet and watched her from above. He couldn't take his eyes off of her viciously defiled form. Too strong was the lure of her helpless situation to him. Her hair had loosened and fell in wild strands over her shoulders. He gazed down to his own toned body and noticed her virgin blood on his manhood. Thus, not only had he willingly disgraced her but he had also robbed her of that innocent virtue of mind and body all women hold solemn in their souls.

That discovery, the fact that he was the first man who had delighted in her well-guarded femininity placed a triumphant smile upon his face. A welcome circumstance that enhanced the degree of his domination and caused a wave of excitement in him. The urge to get inside of her again and satisfy his excruciating rapture was just immeasurable.

Nevertheless, William Tavington was experienced enough to control his body and handle the situation in a manner which he saw fit. He fetched a piece of fabric that once had been a part of Judith's undergarment in order to wipe the betraying evidence of her deflowering away. Of course, he could have taken her again, with violence if necessary, against her will. But he knew, if he could make her want him, it would not only flatter his male pride, making her defeat even worse, but also make matters much more enjoyable for him. And he knew exactly how he would have to make it happen. He was very well aware of the effect that his physical appeal had on women and how to bring it into play and use it to his purposes.

He stripped off his shirt and approached her anew.


	3. A Woman is born

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 3 – A Woman is born

Judith still clung to the futile idea that if she could not see him, perhaps this all was only a figment of her imagination. Maybe she wasn't there at all and this was just an awful nightmare from which she would awake safely at home in her bed, untouched.

She opened her eyes, still in that fantasy, and saw him bending over her again with his naked, muscular chest, glaring down at her, licking his lips in the anticipation of getting more from her. She cried out loudly in the expectation of all the new pains and miseries he might cause her or... even worse.

But he only laid his fingers on her mouth.  
"Oh yes, my poor, poor darling, that hurt, didn't it? But now, ssshh..." he calmly soothed her, tenderly moving her disheveled hair from her face. He turned his head and let his gaze glide over her body from the toes back to her face. The lashing had left undeniable traces on her skin. He sighed and shook his head:

"It's a pity I had to beat you and teach you that lesson. Utterly sinful to harm a beautiful woman in that way…" he began in a hushed tone, ending with, "Although I must say, with your behaviour, you were asking for it..."

He sneered his comment, making Judith jerk her head up to see his well-guarded expression. He was smiling, more so, attempting to grin a half-hearted apology to her. She didn't believe a moment of it, and replied: "It's more than a pity what you have done to me. And it more than hurt! Whether I was asking for it' or not! " Judith's tone was whispered, but there was an undeniable aggression still present in it.

"Oh yes, lass, of course", Tavington still smiled and now tried to mask a small chuckle, after all, Judith was stating the obvious truth. "But you see, it always hurts when a woman is fresh in the world that way." He enlightened her in a sympathetic tone and patted her head in a fatherly manner.

Judith shifted her head quickly to avoid his touch, "_That_, is not what I was talking about. But since you seem to be so concerned now over your teaching me my lesson, please understand, _Sir_," given with a tiny sneer of her own, "What I had to give was not yours to have." With that being said, Judith finally closed her exposed parts, moving to her side away from him; submerged in her tears she covered her face.

Colonel Tavington was not thwarted, and true in his heart, rather unsympathetic to her tears or condition. He raised his brow and falsely encouraged: "I didn't know it was your first time, you could have told me. Most girls can't resist telling their lovers about it. Not what you did. You didn't beg me to be careful. So, it appears that you are a very brave girl. I have seen strong men behaving more cowardly than you. And as well, I had to punish you for being so forward to me. But fret not dearest, for now comes the best part. You shall be rewarded for your bravery."

"I don't want to be rewarded by you", Judith mumbled, doing her best to cease the tears, or at the very least hide them.

"Now, now, stop crying", Tavington continued amiably, "There's no need to weep."

"No need to weep? You murdered my friend, you murdered her baby!" she accused him, turning only her head to see him.

"Not by my choice! I've already told you, we're at war and I have my orders. Believe me, sometimes it's an ugly business, doing one's duty… I really wish we had met under more pleasant circumstances. It's only natural that now you think of me as the beastly butcher_, as my reputation states_. But it doesn't have to be that way. Just give me a chance to show you what else I have to offer…" his voice soothed and he laid his palm on her cheek.

Only, his actions did not calm Judith's panic, it increased it tenfold.

"No, no, no. No need to upset yourself again", he now bent down to her, wanting to be near her. "Relax. Everything will be fine, just relax", he spoke in a soft voice while he stroke gently with his thumb over her cheek, "Never fear. I assure you, you've already got through with the worst."

And although it was not precisely confidence she found in his words, Judith was beginning to get captivated by his faked compassion. She was lost in the world, this world, a place she never wanted to go, a place she never imagined being trapped in. Without any other outlets for escape, or anyone else to guide her home, she needed a saviour. She wanted to trust him. She needed to trust him. And even on the off-chance he spoke the truth, Judith let herself believe the sincerity of his words. If only she behaved and accepted his reward for her bravery, he might just possibly release her freely. Perhaps she would be able to go home soon, back to her own world, a world that existed without war. She nodded on the prospect of this eventuality and lightly pressed her cheek against his palm.

"Yes, fine, good so. That's alright", he quietly welcomed her concession. "You are a beautiful woman", he spoke, as he looked over every inch of her face, swollen and sorrowful after his attack. "There are not many, if any, young ladies I know, who could compete with your charm and gracefulness." Then he mockingly smiled and told her "I always knew, Captain Wilkins was a regular fool."

Tavington saw both the undivided attention and sudden confusion in Judith's eyes. He had reckoned on the fact, that the mere mentioning of James Wilkins' name would catch the adequate interest of her, which was necessary to make sure that she followed his words attentively. And now he was very content to see how predictable she was. "Well", he went on explaining, "I don't share his point of view that you are just a simple-minded farm girl. Are you? No. You are courageous and smart. You're young, you're wild. Valiant and unbridled. Just like me. And how very attractive you are. Truth to be said, I adore such powerful women like you."

While he spoke to her, Judith focused on the mild expression on his face, but never did she recognize the cunning deceitfulness, which was the ulterior motive of his action. She listened to his words as if he was reading from the bible and when he'd finished she was spellbound by his eyes.

He slowly positioned himself right next to her and with a kindhearted expression on his face he lovingly caressed the insides of her thighs, which were opened once more the second his fingertips fell there.

Judith was utterly confused to see him behaving so carefully. And willingly or not, on second glance she had to confess that his naked appearance had only scared her at first, but now it was evoking an unknown thrill in her in the most forbidden sort of way. It was as if, at least to her, he was patiently trying to give her aching body some comfort. And she was languishing for somebody, anybody, she could lean on and who would lick her sores.

In a weird sort of way, she soon found the sensations of his gentle touch welcoming. His inescapable closeness filled Judith with highly conflicting sentiments of her heart and mind.

With every gentle stroke over her skin Judith felt another, a new woman gaining life within her. A woman who actually wanted to be touched and fondled by this man, a woman who was kindled by his warmth and closeness. The formerly innocent Judith was in danger of fading away, as the Colonel worked her legs and approached with every stroke more and more to her most intimate parts. Judith's old self, who still feared him to the marrow fought with the yet unknown woman.

He slowly leaned down and softly pressed his lips on hers. Only this time he wasn't rough, rather cautious of his own actions and very tender in his kiss. His lips were so unexpectedly pleasing. She quietly sighed her contentment while in his embrace.

"You know, I'm not that brutal man you think of me. Just wait and see. I can be very... sensitive, …appealing... charming even..." He spoke in a hushed whisper, while staring into her eyes. He raised his brow as he felt her skin, covered in goose bumps. That was all the evidence he needed that he was well on his way to capture her soul.  
Again he placed his lips to hers in a perfectly innocent kiss. His mouth played on her lips, dexterously dancing about in flawless timing to hers. Every now and then the tip of his tongue carefully slipped into her mouth, only to be pulled back almost immediately, as if he was politely asking permission to enter. All too soon she willingly agreed to his seduction and before she knew what she was actually doing, she was already eagerly answering his kisses. Finally she couldn't help but place her arms around his neck, bringing her body as close to his as possible. 

Colonel Tavington had her right where he wanted her. He quickly freed himself from her embrace and swiftly sat upright.  
He watched her, searching her face, her figure, her whole being, wanting to know the secrets of her heart that lay hidden from him, still locked away in her heart.

Her longing eyes spoke a language that was free from any explanation. His tender ministrations were not wasted on her. Not at all! Her mouth hung half opened as she returned the stare. She could still taste his kiss. Her rounded, full breasts seemed to have developed their own life in the way they rose and fell in an eager anticipation with every breath she took. Seeing this, he smiled.  
From her erect nipples he could easily tell that his power on women was still unquestionable. He could have any women he wanted, apparently, he, Colonel William Tavington just had that way about him.

Tavington, quite eager himself, let his hand glide down her body. Her breasts, covered in perspiration, his fingertips moved, tickling her all the way to her waist. What was left of her torn and tattered dress, he ignored, moving further down still, he brushed his hand suavely over the sensitive skin of the once secret place between her legs. A part of her body that he had invaded, abused and broken, magically healed as he moved his hand, pressing into the most intimate crevices within. Judith's eyes were not the only part of her hinting at her readiness. Her womanhood betrayed her, it throbbed for him. Judith felt ashamed at the unavoidable reaction of her body to his tenderness. Her head swam, when she saw into these incredible crystal-clear blue eyes. His finely chiselled face showed nothing of the cruel character still ever present and ready to attack if need be.

Colonel Tavington was truly the devil in disguise. And far more bothersome, Judith found it almost impossible to resist him and his charms. The warmth of his hand continued to stroke her most intimate parts. Judith felt the new sensations both embarrassing and exciting at the same time. Unable to oppose his plays for her affections, she enjoyed the passion his very able hands raised in her. Although her mind loudly said "No!", her flesh was yearning to feel their bodies together once again, pressed skin to skin.

Of course there was an awkward feeling of guilt, but under the spell Colonel Tavington cast, Judith was truly helpless. She willingly accepted the desire to be seduced by a man who murdered Sarah and her baby only a few minutes ago. She despised herself; she hated to confess that she was attracted to him so badly. And yet it was the truth. There she lay, caught between fear and desire, knowing it was sin and it was unstoppable. "Don't fight your feelings, my lovely", he purred in her ear, observing her inner strife, clear as day in her eyes. "You want it and there's no point in denying it. I can feel you move with me..." He teased, still moving his hand up and down with gracious skill.

"It's more than obvious that you want to admit. Poor dear."

She was about to shake her head when he drove his fingers deep into her.

"Oh, no, please don't." She pleaded, doing her best to push his hand away. "Why should I? It's exactly what you want me to do, isn't it?" He intoned lustfully, hissing in her ear with hot breath while keeping his quick pace in and out to strengthen her adverse pleasures.

"Oh, God!" Judith groaned aloud.

Tavington's vanity made itself heard and demanded to be nourished. He had too, an intimate part of his manhood, his pride, which claimed respect and adoration. Apart from the fact that he took pleasure in being asked his services by a woman, Tavington found that she had been pampered enough already. It couldn't be wrong to give her a small reminder of her inferiority to him and her dependence on his mercy to keep her submissive, as was his preference.

„Now, we both know that you want more", he continued sympathetically, still playing the gentleman that he wasn't, before he went on in a perfidious voice: „But first you'll have to ask for it! And you must ask me for it, nicely..." Horrified by his words and sudden change of face, she looked at him. Judith wondered just how deep she would still have to sink. Unfortunately she saw no other way out. There were other parts of her own personal experiences with men just as unknown as the intimate ones. She had been courted, but she was absolutely unaware of the real rules of the game. To her, Colonel Tavington knew best, and maybe, just maybe she prayed, this was all part of the game and the way it was correctly played. She felt that she couldn't stand this sweet torture any longer and so followed his order. 

„Do it then", she gasped trying to keep her breath.

Colonel Tavington had been smiling at her in the one moment and in the other, he grabbed at her neck viciously, snapping at Judith, "It seems that manners and the finer skills of courtship have gone lost in the colonies! You call that a plea? Is that how a woman asks nicely... I think not. And I'm sure you can do that better."

Judith was confused, not to mention immediately intimidated by his roughness, which had so unexpectedly returned. She couldn't think of anything to say, let alone how to ask him nicely to make love to her.

He observed, she wasn't likely to speak, thus, he rose to his feet and stood himself before her.

„On your knees!" he instructed her.

And Judith obeyed. With her head hung down in devotion she knelt before her master.

„Look at me!" he cruelly demanded.

She felt like a puppet whose strings ended in his hand and so she raised obediently her head.

She couldn't have been any more scared; his member was right in front of her face. Unarticulated sounds were all that escaped from her mouth.

Suddenly he grasped under her chin and forced her to look him straight in the face.

„What did you say? I can't understand you", he asked her sarcastically.

„I... I..." Judith stammered desperately while her eyes danced wildly back and forth from his face to his manhood that started to grow again.

"More than a mouthful...why thank you..." He jested. "Just take your time, my dear, and might I suggest you need not worry after words now," he sneered, "I have something much more...delightful for you to wrap your lips around. Why bother with words, when you have this..."

_With her head still resting in his hand, he used his thumb to lower her quivering lip. Judith's mouth, now resting slightly open, appeared lustful, obscene almost, especially with his newly erect member pressing closely to it. She was appalled, terrified, as his hot, hard manhood gently brushed past the tip of pink, wet lips._

„No, Sir! Please don't! I beg your pardon, please don't make me do that. Feel free to have me any other way you want. I'm yours, just take me", the words just tumbled from her all too fast.

„Very nice, good girl", he praised for her useless attempt to save herself the disgrace. „That sounds far more like it. And to make you see that I'm not unforgiving, this time I will indeed spare you the duty to pleasure me that way. Now… Get up!"

Judith complied with this order at once, as she had no desire to stay any longer in this humiliating position. She got to her feet and stood quietly shivering in front of him. At least her legs were covered again with the sad remnants of her dress, even though it was only due to a few buttons, which were still amazingly in their places having withstood the Colonel's attack that kept her skirts from slipping over her hips.

Tavington was overwhelmed by his fascination of her. He was very content with the result of his doing. Her flickering eyes filled with tears proved her weakness clearly.

Tavington comfortingly placed his hands on her shoulders.

„Calm down. No need to be afraid", he said quietly, „Just as long as you follow my orders, I will grant you every wish."

„Please, don't hurt me", was Judith's only request, and a last one at that. The harsh intermezzo to make her remember his domination had had the intended effect on her. Judith felt lost and helpless, bare of any shelter or safeguard. There truly was not another soul in this world, or anywhere other that would bring her salvation now.

„Never fear", she heard him say, „No woman, who has ever willingly surrendered to my charms, regretted it. Believe me."

Judith wanted to believe him. At the moment there was nothing else she wanted more than making him turn back into the gentle man who had caressed her with tenderness.

Tavington let his hands glide down her back to the cloth of her skirt.

„I think, it's time to get out of this. You won't need it at the moment", he reassured her indulgently.

Judith nodded, and as she was ready to do anything to keep him in a friendly mood, she reached for the buttons. But when their hands met on her back he said: „No. Just let me do that for you."

And before she could say anything in response her skirts were given a swift jerk and the last buttons that seemed to hang on just for her, sprung from her dress.

Judith tried her best to restrain her feelings, her worries and fear, but could not avoid a short cry that escaped from her. She starred at him and their eyes met for an eternal moment. And in that moment they could both see straight through the other one's eyes into their minds and souls. Each of them now had an agreement they held solemn. A vow that clearly stated, as long as Judith played along with him, Tavington would neither hurt nor harm her.

She felt the fabric slip over her hips and fall to the ground. They stood with their naked bodies facing one another. Tavington laid his hands on her bottom and pulled her next to him. Judith felt his hot skin and perceived his scent. A strange, infatuating odor of a perilous sensuality deluded her mind.

His hands wandered slowly upwards her back causing her showers of excitation, which thrilled down her spine. When he had reached her neck, she caught herself longing for tasting his kiss anew.

He did kiss her, only enough to quench her thirst for him, and keep her trapped in his web. Never giving her more than he had to, as he was just as selfish as he was sinister, he released her slightly from his clutches.

„Turn around", he whispered in her ear.

And she did.

Again he pressed his body close to hers and continued to caress her. He enjoyed letting his palms glide over her soft skin, from her curly triangle all over her flat belly up to her well-rounded breasts. To those he devoted himself thoroughly. He clasped them with his hands and started to knead them gently. After a while he concentrated with his fingers on her nipples, which had hardened, under his present actions. If her body still pained from his whipping, she, in her mind, couldn't feel it. The waves of emotions that rained down on her, shielded her from them. Judith groaned aloud under this treatment and tried to pull his hands away on reflex alone.

This useless natural reaction her body put forth in defence made her mind flood, breaking the dam within her heart, reminding her of her place. She was punished for breaking the rules right away - he pinched her nipples with a sharp short squeeze.

Judith cried out loud, as now she felt all he had done to her.

"Well I can be nice, or I can be nasty." Colonel Tavington advised her amused and continued to tantalize her sweetly, offering, "I think you'll prefer I be nice...so you be nice..."

With that Judith leaned back against his chest and finally gave herself to him and his doing. Soon she was lost in his embrace. His strong chest at her back was the only constant factor in a wild sea of the yet unknown.

With one hand that shifted slowly down to her womanhood, Colonel Tavington paved the way for his victory. The decent girl Judith once had been, was definitely vanquished. For with unashamed and unhindered bucking and bumping she welcomed his touch. Finally he had won.

He was going into ecstasies over her unmistakable begging for more and met, quickly answering her request.

Judith closed her eyes as she fell rashly in unfathomable depths.

There was no one else to think of, no other place to think about. No Sarah, no soldiers. No right, no wrong. No thoughts at all, just emotions. Just a body full of hot prickling sparks.

Without leaving her out of his embrace, Colonel Tavington laid her down on the floor of the barn. What his hands had done only a moment ago, was now continued by his mouth, teeth and tongue. He couldn't get enough of her delicate skin. It was long that he had been with such a young, inexperienced woman. He inhaled the clean smell of modesty, which poured from her heated body. Tavington thought the time ripe to pick the fruits of his efforts.

„Spread your legs…please", he directed Judith with a calm but distinct voice.

Judith opened her eyes and was amazed at her new position. Not knowing how she'd got there, Judith found herself lying on her back the Colonel sitting astride upon her. This time she stuck to the rules and obliged without hesitation so that Tavington could position himself between her legs again.

He found back his way easily and immersed himself as deep as possible in her. And while holding her gaze to read in her eyes, he moved slowly, lingering within her, enjoying every moment as he moved back and forth in her moist, tight warmth. It was not long before he had her body enraptured and all her senses concentrated on the tiny spot heating the center of her fulfillment. Time seemed to stop. Under his skilled, sophisticated movements she felt her flower, which he had so splendidly plucked from a bud, burst into the blossom of her womanhood. More and more he continued on until it stood in full bloom like the first of spring.Unable to rule her own body, Judith twitched and tingled in satisfaction. Colonel Tavington ceased his insistent ministrations and watched her dying with lust. Judith's reddened cheeks evidenced that he had served her well. Her fair, soft skin was lightly covered with the sweet sweat of carnal desire. The blood and bruises faded under her air of enjoyment. He smiled and continued to shift and grind himself inside her.

The newly discovered part of her body was still excited and responded immediately to the Colonel's movements. Judith felt that her body was way too small for all the feelings and newly born spirit. She was terribly afraid that, if he did this again with her, her body would explode into millions of pieces spread all over the barn's floor and walls, beyond all hope of recovery.  
"No, please, I can't go on", she implored him to stop, although, strangely not resisting his touch.

To that, Tavington only shook his head slowly. "Oh yes, yes, you can. You'll be surprised! You'll still have to learn a lot." He assured, holding her arms down, not daring to let her get away from him now. "And I am the perfect teacher...consider yourself lucky you found yourself here on this very day..." He sneered arrogantly, not stopping to give her a moment to catch her breath.

Judith did not think it possible for him to venture any deeper into her, but Tavington proved her wrong on that matter.Now it was his turn.

William Tavington was a man who knew to appreciate the skills of an experienced woman, and delight in them. Unfortunately, Judith was far from an experienced woman. She had no idea on how to correctly pleasure a man.

And yet there was one thing only a debutante like her had to offer: The narrowness of her secret passage he had irretrievably unlocked, now tightly enclosed his erection in its own unforgiving manner any time he slid into her. Nothing else in the world could cause such ineffable sensations.

Although she did not try to evade him, she had not yet learned how to enjoy her own body. Without her knowing or controlling it, she tightened the muscles of her hidden hallway with involuntary divine precision each time he entered her anew. Her lack of practice in no small measure helped to set his indomitable animal nature free.

It was he who was forced beyond his own measures. He needed to take every inch of her narrow path again and again anew, so firm were the walls of flesh inside her. With the inexorability of a conqueror he continued to invade her. His hardness kept pushing her tumid flesh unremittingly aside.

With every thrust he seemed to slide farther in. It was he who was under her spell. And it was he, who was now afraid, fearful the pleasure would prematurely end when he truly desired it to continue on forever. But being ecstasized so splendidly, it was impossible for him to hold back any longer. He groaned aloud when he did the last fulminating releasing thrust. Breathing heavily he pressed himself close to her body.

For a moment they were lying there in silent closeness. The only movement was coming from their deep respiration as one body.

It was Tavington who recovered his self-possession first. Propped on his hands he watched Judith for another moment. She was lying underneath him so fragile, overwhelmed by her feelings, still panting. What a lovely toy he had found himself! A cold smile ran over his face.

There was no hurry to carry out his original intentions. A literal death, using the weapon he was issued by his Majesty's army. Only he had found a better weapon, and by using it, he could kill her over and over again. The weapon given to him through his birthright as a man. Surely, she would serve him even better when he kept her alive.

However, he felt it was time to end their intimacy. He knew that he had to remove himself quickly from her if he didn't want to slip from her involuntarily. Unlike Judith, unknowing of such things, he was quite experienced in what a mess lovemaking truly was. Quite frankly, Colonel Tavington had no desire to get soiled by his own seed. He withdrew from her cozy warmth just as skillfully as he did purposely, rudely jerking his entire body away in one swift movement.

Judith, who lay in a strange sort of trance, paid little attention to his masterful detachment. Only a second later her stolidity had vanished into thin air as she felt something warm, wet and discomforting slowly dripping out of her.

Instantly terrified, she bolted upright to see if she was bleeding. There was a slight relief, but only for a moment before another wave of emotions poured over her. She wasn't bleeding, yet there was something else there, something unknown that disturbed her tremendously.

Her sacred area, the most intimate and cherished part of her body, was now willingly marked as a stain of shame.

In a culmination of all her heartache and the intensities that went along with it, Judith timidly raised her head and looked at Colonel Tavington. Her tear soaked eyes were asking for any kind of explanation to all that had happened to her.

Colonel Tavington stared down blankly at her, filled with his own curiosities. She had touched her aching womanhood, searching for an answer, but all she got from him was, "Just wipe it off..."

His thin lips curled in aggravation, ordering, "Get dressed", as he, himself, reattired in his wrinkled uniform, breaking her stare, mindless of her confusion."You will be coming along with us," he sneered as he fixed his own disheveled hair while keeping his eyes from her. Judith had scarcely sobered up when she heard his order. She had no idea how to get dressed with most of her clothes ripped, torn and cut. Pieces of the tattered garment were gone in their game as were a shoe she had lost on her way to the barn. But too weak to raise any objection she obeyed. She truly tried her best to cover her nakedness.

Tavington had crossed his arms and watched her fruitless attempts with satisfaction. Being a gentleman of sorts, he called for a soldier who unknowingly to Judith had been standing guard outside the barn, assuring his colonel some privacy. A moment later, and without the slightest protest, Judith found herself wrapped ominously in the red coat of the enemy.


	4. James and Judith

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 4 – James and Judith

There had hardly ever been anything else more difficult to bear for James Wilkins than these helpless minutes Colonel Tavington had disappeared with Judith behind the gate of the barn.

Even before Judith's first scream could have been heard, it was Captain Bordon who had mounted guard near the entrance. As he was Tavington's right hand, it went without saying that he felt called upon to stand sentry for his superior officer.

Judging by the sounds inside the barn there could be no doubt what Judith had to suffer.

Whilst the other Dragoons at best felt sorry for the pert, nonetheless, outspoken pretty girl Judith was, James Wilkins felt his heart and soul burning.

He quarreled with himself. On the one hand he wished he could forget his ranking in the King's army and storm the barn to save Judith from the Colonel's claws. Yet, on the other hand, of course, he was smart enough to see that there was absolute no point in this. Even in case he should manage to get past Captain Bordon, he would be dead by the Colonel' s hand before he could have done anything for Judith.

All too late it dawned on him, how pretty damn right Benjamin Martin had been in predicting what this war would be like. At the time of the assembly in Charlestown he'd never dreamt up a scenario like this. There were many people he disliked for their opinion the colonies should be an independent nation and he granted them a fierce defeat in that matter. Thus, he had joined the King's army with the honorable intention of fighting for his creed. Fighting like a soldier against other soldiers on a battlefield. Man against man, equal at arms.

And still, in all of this, he had never imagined Judith could possibly get in the line of fire between the front lines. The feelings and emotions, which were related to her, were very different and completely free from any political matters. It had never been important to him to which party Judith tended. Now he wondered if _he_ had taken the right side.

As a gesture of embarrassment and with the inability to do something else, Captain Wilkins took off his helmet and turned his back to the barn. But only to find out that the picture, which presented to him there, was no less easy for him to gaze upon. Poor, murdered, innocent Sarah lay in her own blood in front of the burning cottage, now smoldering embers.

A once peaceful and leisurely place where she and Judith might have been by now; sitting, sipping their cup of tea, laughing and chatting, making plans, letting their imaginations flow how life would be with the yet unborn baby, if it only hadn't been for him. Yes, Judith was so right! It was indeed all his fault; he had brought them here on the now questionable plan to weaken the enemy by all means possible.

However, the only thing that had got weakened was his pride and self-conscience. In his basically most honorable intention to fight for law and order, he had betrayed an innocent, defenseless, pregnant woman. Nothing to write home about at all! He wished he could make all this undone. To no avail – Sarah would never stand up again. Officially she had died a traitor's death, but the only traitor he could make out, wore a Dragoon's uniform and bore the title of a Captain.

Chased by a guilty conscience James Wilkins let glide his gaze from one fellow soldier to the other. No one was content with the present situation.

A few of them pretended to be indifferent.

Some of them peered suspiciously at him as if they doubted he would remain loyal. Concluding from the expressions on their faces they almost expected him to change sides after this event.

Whatever their emotions, most of them already seemed to dislike him inwardly. It was not the first time he had given the decisive hint that had brought them in similar situations where civilians were involved.

They were all brave soldiers not afraid of facing the enemy and never minded to treat him all too gently in a battle. For that reason alone, they regarded these sort of operation as a dastardly kind of war they had not had in mind when they had left England.

The few of them who had realized his liking for the girl in the barn shook disapprovingly their heads when their eyes met. Not only had he failed to save her by his halfhearted attempt to get her out of trouble, but also, he was lacking in courage to stand up for his love now.

And as a matter of fact, in a way they all were right.

The silent accusations that spoke from the men's eyes hit him like punches in his stomach. A sudden strong nausea had taken hold of him. Again he turned around nervously wiping pearls of cold sweat from his fore-head. He inhaled deeply several times, trying to repress the urge to vomit.

Differing from his expectations, he had no easy position in the ranks of the Dragoons. Tavington had never made a secret of his dislike to him and now he had to realize that many of the men shared his view on that matter; they'd just never said it aloud. His loyalty and conservative political attitude could never weigh up his colonial descent. Worthy and welcome he was only to a few strategists like General Cornwallis, who expected much of his inside information that might help to steal a march on the enemy. Among the regular soldiers, there was scarcely anybody who really trusted him. He was tolerated at best. And now he was completely singled out.

Awkwardly he stepped back and forth. Not knowing what to do, he started to control his saddlery, when a piercing scream cut through the sliceable suspense that filled the air._Wilkins shuddered and whipped about to the barn._

It struck him like a bolt from the blue; suddenly he knew he had closed a bargain with Lucifer. He remembered the moment when he decided to tell Tavington about the possible hideout of the Martin children. He thought it was his hour of fame, the ultimate proof of his loyalty, but now he realized that this had been nothing more than a deal with hell, signed in blood.

From that day on Tavington had started a secession of raids against families of the men who fought for enemy. The missions of the Dragoons had no longer to do with military actions, instead they had turned into barbarous crimes against humanity. And he was the source of information, he was responsible for who got put on Tavington's list.

That very day he had sold his soul to the devil and today was settling day. Each of Judith's inhuman desperate screams pushed him further into the jaws of hell. If he didn't want to go insane he needed something to hold on. He clenched his fists and punched hard against the saddle, which made his horse nervously start back from him.

"Everything all right with you, Captain Wilkins?" a rather amused voice wanted to know. James fixed his eyes on Captain Bordon who had addressed him.

"Just keep watch, worry not about what I'm doing!" James Wilkins retorted without thinking. He was torn between sense of duty and vengeance.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, Captain." Bordon stated loudly, trying to provoke him. James' uneasiness had not remained hidden to him. Thus, he fancied the opportunity to get rid of the uninvited guest among their ranks. Wilkins only needed to make the slightest mistake, which would call his loyalty in question. Then it would be an easy task to kick out his greatest rival in the competition for the favors of his superior officer.

And indeed his attempt to induce Captain Wilkins to lose his temper seemed to be successful as James was swiftly closing in on him now. Only when he was about a foot away, James Wilkins stopped in front of him.

Full of combativeness Bordon stared at a pair of brown eyes that were blazing with anger.

James Wilkins stood rooted in his spot and returned the stare without flinching.

„Consider yourself lucky that we are on duty at the moment, or…" he answered level-headed, exercising restraint as he saw through Bordon's spiteful intent.

"Or what Captain Wilkins?" Bordon kept on trying to incite him "Are you looking for trouble?"

Flashes shot from Wilkins' eyes as he stood before Bordon, unspeaking.

James Wilkins was several inches taller than Bordon and so he towered above him stretched to his full height. They glared at each other, fighting a silent dispute, which took place in their minds.

James looked down at Bordon who was equal to him in his rank, but unfortunately higher in Tavington's favor. A good reason, even though the sole one for him, to withstand the urge of his fist to give Bordon a smack in the eye.

Bordon seemed to understand the unspoken messages coming from the irately smoldering expression of Captain Wilkins. Not very comfortable with this disadvantageous physical position towards his all personal foe, Bordon felt he could not really handle this ticklish situation and needed to end the unbearable silence. He spat out aside of him in the utmost ill-mannered way.

This gesture was meant to offend James, and probably it would have worked, if it hadn't called James' attention to something else. As a mere reflex, James' glance had been following Bordon's spittle hitting the ground and out of the corner of his eyes he had noticed a small item lying near them that didn't belong there. James directed his attention back to Bordon and narrowed his eyes. He gave a small, warning nod, silently speaking, "This is not about you, for there are more important things to be concerned with at the moment."

Then he bent down before Bordon, not giving him the slightest rise to take the offensive. Only that his bow was all but a sign of submission, though. James picked up the shoe Judith had lost and while straightening up again, he broke their critical silence answering Bordon's question.

"Just give me a reason", Wilkins let him know unafraid, proofing clearly that it needed more than a crude gesture to tempt him. James left him standing at his post, empty-handed. Bordon had to put up with the fact that his attempt to goad Wilkins into ill-considered actions had remained fruitless.

Judging by appearances, Captain Wilkins was calm and well-composed but inwardly James was shaking with distress. He had no choice but face the fact that he still had to wait with everybody else. For the meantime James turned and twisted Judith's shoe in his hands. It was the only thing of her he had managed to rescue.

After what seemed to be an eternity for him the gate of the barn was opened again. James held his breath, it was only Tavington he saw coming out. With a brief order the Colonel made Bordon enter the barn while James feared for the worst. Moments later and with a great relief, he saw Judith, slowly moving out of the shadows, back into the sunlight. James' initial relief instantly changed into utter dismay by the deplorable sight of her.

The Judith who stepped out of the barn was no longer the same Judith who had entered it. With a bewildered and anxious look and with ragged clothes she seemed to be lost in the red coat Bordon had wrapped around her. James wished it could have been him to guide her back into the yard. But he stood still in his place not daring to act on his own discretion, at least not until Colonel Tavington had passed him.

And indeed, Tavington stopped when he had approached on one level with him. The both of them stared at each other but said nothing. Wilkins fought the urge to wring Tavington's neck. He clenched his teeth so hard that his jawbones bulged under his skin. To that Tavington had only a disdainful grin, which flashed up in the corner of his mouth. Then he casually strolled past him.

In passing, Tavington bumped against Wilkins shoulder with his own, purposely to push him out of his way. The only thing that kept James from exploding was the sight of Judith, who obviously needed more help than having Bordon's coat wrapped around her.

Judith found it hard to walk. With only one shoe on she limped out of the barn. Her slow and shaky walk showed clearly her defeat. Every second step she took brought along sharp, disturbing twinges. Judith missed more than a shoe. Tiny stones that littered the grounds, now pierced the sole of her foot, corresponding painfully to the loss of her virginity. Being forced to touch the dusty ground barefoot aggravated her feelings of exposure all the more. Far worse, it was not the only thing that made her feel so vulnerable. Tavington had scrupulously taken care that her humiliation was to be a lasting one.

Whatever he had left in her, it was still dripping from her womanhood, staining her thighs and polluting her soul. And although nobody could see it, Judith felt deeply ashamed. She noticed the men gaping at her and turned the same shade of red as the coat she was attired in.

Somehow she had managed to get reattired in her dress, even though it was only the skirt, which was still in a passably good condition. The upper part of her dress had been so damaged that it fell from another in two halves. If it hadn't been for the red coat, there wouldn't have been much left to the imagination of the soldiers.

Judith lowered her head and did her very best to keep the jacket closed. With one hand holding it fast at the height of her breast, with the other hand preventing her skirt form sliding to the ground, she stepped forward not knowing where to actually go. Her knees were so weak that it was a miracle her legs still managed to carry her.

Anxiously she glanced around, secretly hoping to find James. If there was anybody she could still meet with a last spark of trust in her present condition, then it was James Wilkins, the man she, regrettably, had scorned so persistently until this time. Finally she could make him out staring at her in a mixture of disbelief and awkwardness. Judith noticed that he had picked up her missing shoe and she was inclined to believe, he had only been waiting for the moment she would step out of the barn to give it back to her.

Alas, as a sad matter of fact, James was not as gallant as Judith regarded him, for it was only then when Colonel Tavington had passed him that he felt free to follow his heart and finally headed towards her.

When they stood before each other James was shocked to see the pure desperation that poured from her eyes. Suddenly her lips started to shiver without control and he knew there was only one thing he could do for her now. He laid his arms around her and pulled her close to him. When Judith felt his tight embrace full of concern, she suddenly understood the difference of being loved up and being loved. She silently reprimanded herself for never having been any friendlier to him. All too late it dawned on her that he was the true gentleman.


	5. A Friend's Help

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 5 - A Friend's Help

Judith leaned her head against James' chest and couldn't help but weeping. Her body was quivering all over. Tears flooded her face soaking the jacket of his uniform. However, she produced not a single noise, her weeping remained silent as if she feared attracting any further attention.

James Wilkins was smart and tactful enough not to urge on her to stop crying. He was just there to give Judith some hold.

The two of them did nothing but standing still amidst the Dragoons who were getting ready for departure. Both Judith and James felt the wish to tell each other about their thoughts and feelings. But it was neither the time nor the place to do so. When Judith had calmed down she looked at James.

"Take me away from here, James. Please, take me away from here", she imploringly asked him.

"I'm glad we hold the same view at least in this point, Madam. " It was not her supposed savior who answered, but Colonel Tavington, in James' place.

"Well then", Colonel Tavington went on arrogantly, "Captain Wilkins, when you are done mothering her, please help the woman to horse and see that you promptly catch up with the rest of us!" Tavington casually strode forward away, muttering under his breath, "Lest you get lost in the woods...Now, we wouldn't want that to happen..."

Judith looked around and found that everyone had mounted and was obviously waiting for Tavington's order to part. He already had raised his arm to give the sign for withdrawal when Judith's glance fell on Sarah who still lay in the yard.

"James, what is this? What's going on here? Are you really just going to leave? You cannot simply ride away… I mean, …Sarah, … she's dead and…"

"Please, Judith, not again", James tried to calm her.

On the spur of the moment she rejected from his embrace. From her point of view there was not much left that could happen to her now. With the courage of despair she addressed to Colonel Tavington: "Sir! What about Sarah? Have you not one sense of decency at all? You cannot leave her here like this. She needs to be buried."

"I'm afraid," Colonel Tavington began with false regret, "we have very little time for such sentimental things as funerals." Showing his real attitude on this matter, he explained unmistakably: "We are soldiers not undertakers, Madam. You understand this, don't you?"

"I understand that it is an act of irreverence if you…" Judith began only to have the Colonel silence her further with, "Depart!"

Tavington had shouted his order over the yard, not letting her speak to the end. Then, as a gesture of humiliation, he directed his horse with malice aforethought straight into Sarah's direction and made his horse jump over her dead body. The other Dragoons followed him, only that they cared not to take the exactly same route.

Full of horror and disdain Judith stared after the Dragoons who were riding away without even turning their heads. When the last rider was out of sight, she begged James: "Please, wait. Give me one moment, please. No matter what _he_ says, _I_ cannot simply leave her like this."

James unquestionably nodded his agreement to that and Judith approached slowly her dead friend Sarah.

None of these brave soldiers of His Majesty's Royal Army had obviously managed or cared enough to close poor Sarah's eyes. A simple act in itself, yet so difficult to actually do. Judith also took Sarah's hands and crossed them over her belly to give her dead body and the innocent baby still resting within, a little more dignity.

Overpowered by sorrow, deeply mourning, there was nothing Judith could say in this moment. She only started to cry anew until she felt James laying one hand on her shoulder. She knew it was the silent request for her speedy and cooperative departure.

She rose to her feet, ready to let him guide her to his horse. But then she turned her head and looked him straight in the face, pleading helplessly, "Please, James, let me go! Let me go home. Don't make me go with him...Tell him I escaped, attacked you... please... no, better yet, tell him I fought you and you had no choice but to kill me..."

Her begging was futile at best, and furthermore, simply, it was breaking his heart to look in these fearfully imploring eyes knowing that his answer to that plea had to be 'NO'.

"I can't…" he did a little pleading of his own, shaking his head.

"You must!" Judith urged on him, "James, can you not see? He will kill me, if you don't let me go!"

"Judith, please understand, I can't do that!"

His mouth said one thing, his heart another. He stopped and asked himself _why_ he couldn't do that. He knew the answer and he felt unforgivably awful for fearing more of his own life than hers. He didn't even want to imagine what might happen to him, if he returned to his troop without Judith. Her own excuses, created on her terrified whim, made no sense at all and were, he knew, to Colonel Tavington, completely unbelievable.

He searched for the words to calm her. An arduous task, as it was still a miracle to him how Judith could stand in front of him at all. Truth to be told, James hadn't reckoned on seeing her alive ever again. He couldn't help thinking, if Tavington had seriously wanted to kill her, he would already have done it. But then he realized that this was a comfort in no way. Thus, he continued, trying his best to sound confident: "Don't worry Judith, I don't think he's going to kill you."

Both of them knew that this was an outright lie.

"I liked you better courting me, James" was all Judith said, not sparing him the hushed accusation of her eyes for his poor attempt to dupe her.

Her words hurt him far more than a slap in the face could ever have done.

"I'm sorry, Judith", he whispered. "I have no choice."

"We always have a choice, James Wilkins", she corrected defiantly.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and said: "Come on, we better hurry, it's time. Do… do you think you can ride?"

Judith nodded and turned to the direction of his horse.

"Wait!" James said with a sudden bustle.

Full of expectation Judith looked at him as she hoped he had changed his mind and would let her go.

"Yes?" she said, eagerly awaiting his next words.

James hesitated when he realized that she had misread his actual intention and blushed. Painfully endeavoring not to meet her eyes, he looked down at her shoe, which he held still in his hand. "Here…" he shuffled, clumsily presenting it to her, "…it's yours. You've lost it,… I… I picked it up…" James stuttered, battling for words.

It made her miserable to see how he had let her down. Judith fetched for the shoe, ripping it from his hand, and without putting it on, she strode off toward the horse, hiding her frustration over his weakness behind bristly stubbornness.

For James Wilkins this was a familiar reaction, he had become quite aware of when dealing with Judith. Over countless attempts to win herover, hoping to court, he had gotten used to her constant rebuffs of his affections.And always, no matter how polite or impolite Judith could be, her refusals of his hand and heart had bothered him endlessly. Only now, this was the first time he would ever admit her rude muteness, without a word of thanks for his rescue of her shoe, was deserving of him.

Only slowly did he follow her. It was, in a way, his weak attempt to lessen the haste of their departure.

Judith had already reached his horse and foolishly tried to mount it without any aid. But she had not hands or the physical strength left enough to do so. As she reached for the pommel of the saddle while neglecting to place her one foot up into the stirrup, her skirt began to slip down. She grabbed it in the last second, leaving her rooted to the ground in her quick movements. Instead of putting her shoe on she threw it angrily away to have the other hand free. She tried anew and again her efforts remained unsuccessful.

"Stand still, you silly jade!" she spat at the horse as if it was to blame for the whole fiasco. She firmly grabbed the horse's reign in order to appease it, only to find that her rough behavior simply aggravated the horse's foul disposition further. The animal reared up and Judith fell on the ground.

"Stop it! You'll only hurt yourself, or worse...the horse... " Now, James hurried to get things under control again. He was so busy with pacifying the horse that he could not see clearly whether Judith had got injured.

"Are you alright?" he asked while settling the animal. Unluckily, he had asked before he had turned towards her. He instantly wished he'd rather bitten off his tongue than having asked such a stupid question. Judith was still in a crouch and had lost the read coat. And for the first time since she'd left the barn, he got a glimpse of the entire extent of her brutal lashing. Her back and body was littered with welts.

"Good Lord, Judith!" he whispered in disbelief "What has he done to you?"

Judith snorted. Embittered she replied: "Are you sure whether you really want to know that?" Judith seemed to stare through him. She had sat upright and did not even care that he had free sight at her unclothed breasts. James felt all the more ashamed, though. This was not the way or moment he had fancied to discover them. More so at her remark, he was led to assume even more alarming proportions of her misery.

He had to force his gaze away from her as he picked up the red coat that had fallen into the dusty earth.

"Here…" he said, "You better put this on again now…" he spoke in a hushed tone as he handed it over to Judith. James was not sure if she would appreciate his continued attempts to help her, without really helping her at all. Thus, he left her alone.

"You ought to make use of this private opportunity to actually button it up. I'm sure when you were attired in it, the Colonel gave you no such chance."James politely advised, merely being practical-minded while giving her a moment's peace.Without further intrusion on her nakedness, Captain Wilkins took his leave, and walked away, giving Judith the privacy he had just spoken of.

She didn't notice his abashed confusion.

She didn't mind his brief instructions.

She didn't take notice of where he went, she felt comfortable with his voice telling her what to do. When she had closed the last button she heard him saying from a distance: "Put the shoe on."

She did.

"Allow me?" He had returned to her and she nodded her consent, wondering what exactly he had asked her permission for.

He reached at her waist and she felt how the skirt was now being fixed with a rope, which he had obviously cut from the clothesline. Under normal circumstances she would never have allowed him to approach her in such a way. Instead she would have known to make sure that there was not even the slightest occasion for him to do so. Alas her life seemed to be no longer under her control. And even now James behaved like a gentleman. There was nothing immoral or insulting in his gentle, considerate action. When he had tied the rope thoroughly he stepped back. He even, in an odd sort of manner, bowed to her.

"Shall we?" he kindly asked, his arm directing her to the now tranquil horse.

With sagging shoulders she followed his call.

"Wait", James reached for the headgear of his horse to make sure it would stand still this time. Then he offered her his hand to step on making it easier for her to mount.

"Let me help you, Judith," He proudly declared, happy for once she seemed amicable to his aid.

"Help, James?" Judith asked him skeptically. Then she shook her head and did a little declaring of her own, "I don't need a groom, I need a friend!" There was no offence in her voice. It was just the upright request for a little support within a pack of wolves.

To be her friend was all he'd ever wanted. And now, that Judith, she asked him outright at long last, he felt that he would be not strong enough.


	6. An Ocean of Love

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 6 – An Ocean of Love

Judith was on horseback.

With James' aid she had managed to mount without any further difficulties. James sat seated behind her holding the reigns and Judith now found herself positioned in an odd sort of embrace. Nonetheless, as a precaution, Judith still held on to James' arms when the horse began to move.

They took their leave in an unnerving silence.

Judith did her best to submit to the necessities of the moment with composure.

Yet there was one moment so difficult to bear that it brought her to the edge of desperation.

Judith was granted a last swift glance at her unlamented and unburied friend. Despite the fact that it was not more than an instant wherein Judith caught sight of Sarah lying in front of the smoldering remains of the small cottage, this picture was burned into her soul for eternity.

Only a few seconds later, as Judith bit her lips and swallowed hard, they had already left the yard behind them on a quick gallop.

They now rode in the hoof prints of the Green Dragoons.

Feeling Judith's terrified grip as they charged up the dirt path, James pulled up on the reins and slowed the horse. From a hasty dash to a more leisurely wander, it gave James mild relief that if nothing else, the support of his arms would be sufficient enough to ensure she would not fall from his horse.

But Judith didn't let go.

It was not for her health or safety that made her cling to James. Frankly, she needed to hold onto somebody. She had joined her arms to his as they fled the yard in order to find consolation from the known terror of the events behind her. Now she held onto him still simply because she feared the unknown terrors that most probably would await her in a not all too distant future.

In the past Judith had always declined James' offers to take her out for a ride on a Sunday afternoon. Now she would have given a fortune for the ability to trade her present situation for one of those many renounced dates. As they trotted along, Judith wondered if James felt the same.

In any case, Judith was relieved that James showed no hurry in closing the gap between themselves and the Green Dragoons. She hoped and prayed the distance between his hoof prints and those of Colonel Tavington would take days to fill.

Alas, just as she felt a much deserved reprieve it was thwarted, for they came around a curve and unexpectedly found the whole troop halted before them.

Petrified at the sight of this alarming all-red gathering, her stomach cramped in the same way as her hands did. Judith clawed her fingers still more firmly into the fabric of James' coat. She turned her head away from the soldiers and tried to hide her face in James' embrace, only to find out that this was impossible if she didn't want to take the risk of falling off the horse. Sitting in front of James, facing forward, Judith was forced to meet the enemy head on. The only comfort she found was the reassuring warmth of James' chest behind her.

Looking at the pair, it was hard to say who of them felt more helpless at this moment.

Judith had turned pale with anxious surprise. She had not forgotten about the ruthless colonel. In fact, she was well aware that she was bound to meet her tormentor again, no matter how slowly they rode.

Still, in her misery, she had tried to thrust aside the memory of Tavington for a while. Absorbed in reflecting over her relationship to James that had never really been one and imagining the way it could have been, Judith was completely unprepared to close up with the troop of Green Dragoons that soon. And that prospect, one where she was to be so close to the wicked colonel's presence again left her pitiably shivering with horror.

James, on his part, saw no chance to comfort her. It troubled him to be the man of all men who was to guide her into further destruction. What had seemed to be a concession of Colonel Tavington at first glance, allowing Judith to be escorted by him, was turning out to be no more than another mean act of the Colonel to show his contempt of James, the colonial loyalist.

However, even if the Dragoons had stopped as if they had decided to wait for the two of them, they crowded the road in a rather disorganized manner. And no one seemed to be on the look-out for them. James was aware this was not the way they were usually aligned when waiting for stragglers. Presumably something else had made them stop.

James found his assumption proven correct when he and Judith slowly drew nearer. A few men noticed their approach, but nobody made a report. Instead the Dragoons drew their attention to Colonel Tavington, who was obviously delivering an address to the gathering.

Judith and James had not yet approached near enough to listen to his words, but as much as they both could see he was holding a piece of paper in his hand that he read from.

All this struck James as very strange and he kept his horse moving slowly, still wondering what exactly might be going on.

It was not far from the farm they had just left, when something had caught Colonel Tavington's eye.

"Halt!" he shouted and made the troop stop. "Captain Bordon, what it that?" he asked and pointed to an item lying on the side of the path they rode on.

There lay a package of white envelopes all tied together with pink lace beside a simple wicker basket.

Bordon dismounted and picked up the basket. As he examined the contents, he explained, "On first glance, I'd say it's just a sewing basket, Sir."

There were several spools of yarn, patches and needles. Scissors, buttons and other useful accessories, which were all ignored and discarded to the ground with the exception of the letters as Bordon handed the bundle to Colonel Tavington.

"How romantic," Tavington commented with sham emotion. "A sewing basket where a young woman obviously keeps her love-letters. Well, I'd say, as curiosity is all our second nature, let's take a closer look at it." He untied the package and randomly pulled one of the letters out of the pile. He threw the bundle back down to Bordon and eagerly ripped open the selected correspondence.

Some of the men were already grinning broadly in keen anticipation.

Tavington skimmed the letter silently at first. Amazing, what a man in love was able to come up with. He shook his head in amusement. "Now, gentlemen, I don't know what kind of letters you receive from home, but if there's anyone of you in the mood for some diversion listen to this:

'…_whatever I do nothing seems to please you. And although my prayers appear to remain unanswered, I refuse to believe that it is my fate to stay alone forever… a thousand times I've asked you and a thousand times you've said no. Countless times I've knocked on your door and countless times you refused to open it. But I will not lose hope. You're not made of stone. And I believe for sure, there will come a time when fortune will finally be on my side and you will become mine..._'

Hear, hear men! She has been scorning his affections countless times? Well, even the greatest of fools would know by now the worshipped young lady is obviously not all too much interested in him, especially if she would not give him the courtesy of an open door when he comes calling!" Tavington teased, rereading over the anonymous author's open heart exposed in his note.

Several of the Dragoons standing around including those still on horseback, snickered silently at their colonel's joke.

As the colonel made a mockery of the author's fondness in pen, Captain Bordon felt compelled to rummage through the rest of the letters on his own. Where such romantic things were hidden, there might possibly be found more details, and not just those of the heart.

While eagerly delving among the papers he didn't notice that one of them slipped out of the pile and fell to the ground. The lovely piece of paper blew up and away with a sudden blast of the brisk afternoon air.

"Now, gentlemen, please…there is more…" Tavington continued, „let's see, what else he has in store for her:

‚… _When I awake in the early morning light, I wear a happy smile, for I have saved the beautiful image of your exquisite face from my dreams and I know it will accompany me all through the day. When I retire to bed at night still alone, without you, I delve into the fantasy of what it must be like to kiss those sweet lips...' "_

Colonel Tavington had to stop. It was simply too funny to go on. "Good gracious! That poor devil will never win her over with reveries. Someone should tell him…"

The men answered with undisguised laughter now and no one seemed to care that James and Judith had arrived unnoticed, well within earshot. Although both, Judith and James, had yet to discover what was arousing the general merriment.

That was, until, a short gust of wind wafted the piece of paper in front of James' horse.

James was at a loss as to why the troop would be halted until he noticed the letter that had landed on the ground before him. All of a sudden he was sure to have found a simple explanation for the strange situation: He surmised that the troop had found enemy dispatches. And now Tavington and the others gave free scope to their glee about the misfortune of the enemy. If he was right, everything was important and nothing could be missed.

His senses of duty had returned in their entirety, thus he dismounted to pick up the paper before it could be blown further away. Only in doing so, he and Judith were finally near enough to actually hear what Tavington was saying.

"… _Deep down in my heart I know there will be a time and a place for us to live in happiness and harmony and no matter how long you will continue to keep your silence, I will not stop dreaming of it. There is no way I could imagine life without you as you are for me what the sun is for the earth. The love for you that is pouring from my heart is a never-ending one and oceans could be filled with it..._"

Taken aback, James Wilkins realized with utmost astonishment that these words had sprung from his pen.

Judith also looked up when she recognized the lines that had originally been meant for nobody else but her. She had read them so often she knew them all by heart. And it cut her to the quick to hear them recited to an audience that showed not the least bit of deserving sensibility. Seeing that the men most likely seemed to regard it as the suitable distraction after all that had happened, upset her beyond all measure.

"Those are my letters!" the both of them uttered in chorus.

Only that James' voice got lost in the rage Judith had suddenly worked up. She had shouted the words full of exasperation. At the moment, there was no space for fear left in her and with a courageous bound she too had dismounted.

Now she stomped quickly straight toward Tavington and angrily tried to steal away her letter, furiously jumping up and down. Of course, she had not the faintest chance to be successful in her futile effort as Tavington was still sitting on horseback. It rather was the expression of a desperate endeavor to stop him from reading aloud what was exclusively meant to be for her alone.

"Stop it! Stop reading! You have no right to do so. I want you to stop it! Immediately!" she yelled at him. Tavington indeed stopped reading as he was busy trying to keep his horse under control. Her raised voice and offensive action had apparently upset the animal.

Before the situation completely escalated, Judith was seized roughly by someone and pulled back from the Colonel's horse. She couldn't see who had taken hold of her, but she felt it was not James. She was fixed in such a relentless, uncaring embrace that it hurt her. Judith felt like stuck in a vise and no matter how much she struggled she couldn't get free.

"Sir," Bordon spoke up, "I think we've finally found what we've been looking for. This woman here…," he offered calmly as he pointed with his head at Judith, who was still trying to break away from his embrace, "… is a spy!"

Judith stopped struggling. She believed to have misheard him.

"What! Have you gone mad, Sir? I'm not!" she declared emphatically. Judith shuddered at the thought of what they would do with a spy. She forced herself to calm down.

And still, in the utmost critical situation, especially for her, Judith did not dare to look at James, nor ask him for help. It filled her with unspeakable shame that this was to be the way James discovered that she had kept each of his letters so carefully.

For reasons known best to herself she had never managed to tell him about her true feelings. She had put off this task from one day to the next, hoping the right moment would come of itself one time. A terrible mistake, as Judith finally had to understand that those moments never came of themselves.

By now time had tracked her down and she had to pay the penalty for her delay tactics.

"See for yourself, Sir", Bordon went on, "I've found smaller notes among the other letters. No romantic declarations of love but distinct and detailed requests for secret meetings."

With Judith still in his clutches, Bordon stepped up to Tavington to pass him over the notes which had aroused his suspicion.

James could have resolved the whole misunderstanding easily, if it wouldn't have filled him with a profound humiliation. To admit that he was the author of all those letters Tavington had so rudely commented on and made fun of would be the same as admitting he was as peculiar and dubious as the others in his troop already believed him to be. Read out loud, his lines sounded terribly silly to him and perhaps that was exactly the reason Judith had never taken him seriously as a suitor. Mortified, he wanted nothing more than to stow the letter in his hand away before anyone else noticed its absence.

Judith was still in Bordon's arms and although she had settled down he had not released her in the least from his almost intrusive embrace. Anyway, instead of declaring himself and getting Judith out of the line of fire, James put up with having at least one letter safe in his pocket and preferred to keep silent. Feeling broken, James followed Bordon's theory with everybody else.

"Take a look Sir, they are all signed 'M' on the backside, which I assume means… 'Martin'. That proves her clearly a spy as she evidently has lively contact to the ghost," Bordon explained with an important voice. And with the greatest pleasure he seized the opportunity to point out that Captain Wilkins had fallen short of the expectations to lead them to the militia's hideout, "It appears that _coincidence_ has given the clue, which will finally enable us to capture this ghost."

"Captain Bordon!" Tavington interrupted him harshly, "I'd really rather you stop calling him that way! We're not chasing a _ghost_, he's just a man and his name is Benjamin Martin. Stop mystifying him, it's already annoying enough the way it is," Tavington admonished Bordon, pressing the words through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Bordon apologized at once, fawning on Tavington, "Nonetheless, I'm convinced that here we have the key to find Benjamin Martin and his rabble."

He pointed at the pile of letters which were still in his hand.

That was too much to take for Judith. Under no circumstances would she allow to have even more of her letters presented in public. Now, that Bordon held her only with one arm she managed to jerk herself free.

"Give them back to me! These letters are mine and they don't belong to you!" She reached for the papers but failed to get hold of them.

Seriously annoyed Tavington watched her renewed disrespect and Bordon's inability to handle her.

"Enough of that!" Tavington barked at them. Instantly, Judith and Bordon ceased from each other awaiting the Colonel's next words in awe. "Let's all settle down," he demanded in a perilous low voice, "and see what this fuss is about." Tavington peered down from his elevated position and focused his eyes on Judith when he continued, "Obviously these letters belong to you, Madam, don't they?"

Judith nodded with growing uneasiness.

"See, people who live in glasshouses should not throw stones," he counseled, "for you are in possession of something that doesn't belong to you either. This problem should be resolved in no time. So, might I suggest you and Captain Bordon simply exchange the items in question. It can be arranged easily."

When Judith realized that Tavington was referring to the jacket of Bordon's uniform she was highly alarmed and suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time. Defensively, she crossed her arms in front of her and shook her head pleadingly to this suggestion.

"No?" Tavington commented with false surprise on her apprehensive refusal, "Well then, Captain Bordon, be so kind and hand these letters to me."

"Here, Sir," Bordon officiously passed the letters on to his superior officer. He felt flattered that Tavington was finally disposed to listen to him and his theories, only little knowing yet that Judith was not the only one who was to be compromised.

Highly motivated, he wasted no time to explain his idea: "From my point of view the thing is…"

Not paying all too much attention to Bordon's ranting, Colonel Tavington had his own thoughts about the matter.

He examined the handful of correspondence. The smaller notes Bordon had been talking of indeed bore only a capital letter on their backside. He compared the handwriting with the one of the letter he had been reading from and found out, that it was exactly the same pen.

Tavington silently rushed through the remaining lines to find out the name of the writer.

To his surprise, here too, the author had only signed with one capital letter as if afraid to be identified clearly. And strange enough it was a very familiar 'W'. Not that he, William Tavington, had ever wasted time on sentimental gimcrackery like writing love letters himself. He saw no point in this as it had always worked out very well for him to take the straightest way possible in order to take a woman's heart. But he was sure, if he had made the effort to reach for ink and quill he would certainly have the lady of his interest let known who was addressing her. Everything else wouldn't have made much sense to him.

Anyway, all the letters and notes were authored by one and the same man, whose name obviously began with a 'W'. Thus, it was not Benjamin Martin.

While Bordon was still busy with wondering about the mystic correlations of these messages, Tavington made use of his inborn keen mind.

It had become second nature with him to observe attentively everything going on around him and now that he came to think of it, many little pieces were joining together magically to build a whole.

Obviously he must have been reading from a special letter as it had let Judith's temper run so high and had made Captain Wilkins' fell so silent.

Now, she was standing there so small in Bordon's coat, shamefully avoiding to cast a glance at the man who had so willingly given comfort to her.

Tavington needed to correct his assumption that the two would know each other only by chance. Captain Wilkins' concern for her when she had left the barn did not come out of nowhere. And his present light pink complexion combined with his conspicuous restraint spoke volumes to Tavington.

On second thoughts, Tavington remembered a tiny fact that had almost been drowned out by the noisy ado Judith had put up at their arrival. No one else might have noticed it, but Tavington remembered Captain Wilkins clearly moving his lips dumbfounded along with Judith's more courageous confession to whom these letters would belong.

Once again, the minor details had evidenced the real circumstances. Tavington had clearly taken the point.

"With due deference to your zeal, Bordon," he interrupted Bordon's twaddle, "let's stick to the facts. This is a simple love-letter. And we do even know who has written it. It's not signed M. It's signed W."

"But, Sir, are you sure…?", Bordon set about to defend his theory only to be cut short sharply by Tavington.

"Take it from me, Captain, I know what a 'W' looks like. If you don't believe me, let's ask the author of this. Wouldn't you agree, this letter is a W, Captain…" and with an abrupt turn of his head he mellifluously addressed to James, "…_W_ilkins?"

James went crimson and lowered his head. He truly felt caught in the act. "This is correct, Sir," he reluctantly confessed, "_I _wrote these letters."

"Good man, Wilkins! And you wonder why she keeps rejecting you?" With relish Tavington put his finger in that open sore. "Goodness, what a nonsense! An ocean full of love… Take care that you not drown, Captain!"

Tavington's mockery aroused open amusement.

"Honestly," Tavington kept turning the knife in the wound, "every half-way sensible woman would crack up laughing when reading this. I'm sure dear Judith has done so. And the sole reason for her to keep this heart-tugging pile of crap is certainly for her mere amusement.

In my entire life I haven't written a single a love-letter. For good reason! You see, there are women who love me and there are women who fear me and I don't mind any of it, but never do they laugh at me!" This last sentence sounded more like a general warning than a statement. "At least one thing is sure; this is not a rebel's message, this is just a heap of trash. And if you insist on having it back, Madam, on my behalf, you shall have it back." Tavington turned his head to Bordon, "Captain Bordon, hand her over these letters along with the sewing basket." Then he added with a sneer, "She looks like she could do with it."

Bordon cast a grumpy glance at Judith. He was not precisely pleased to see his conclusions proven wrong. More so as he, too, felt exposed to ridicule. Of course, he would not even have dreamt of accusing Tavington for it. In his momentary ill-tempered disposition, he rather blamed it all on the woman. If she had taken more care not to lose her private correspondence he would never have made himself look like a fool.

It bothered him to have to return her belongings to her just as she had demanded. Overcome with this peevishness, he flung the envelopes back into the basket and forwarded it to her in such a harsh movement that it bounced off her hands and fell down at her feet. Once again, James' letters had got out of her hands. They now lay spread out all over the ground joining the other dropped stuff of her sewing equipment.

„You really ought to be more careful about your things," Bordon advised her noticeably disgruntled and left her standing alone. On purpose or not, in leaving he stamped a few of the white papers into the muddy ground.

Judith was on the verge of tears. She had always watched over these letters like they were the apple of her eye. Now they had been desecrated and people trampled upon them without care. She wondered whether it was still worthwhile picking them up at all.

"What are you waiting for, Madam?" Tavington urged on her to hurry, "we don't want to put down roots here. There's still a long way ahead of us."


	7. Joys and Sorrows

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 7 – Joys and Sorrows

It was late in the afternoon when the Dragoons made their next halt. Colonel William Tavington had decided to stop in time so that they could pitch their night camp without hurry.

He was in a fairly good mood since they had made the rest of their way without any further incidents. He left it to his men to arrange all things necessary for the night, while he took the liberty to refresh himself at a near creek. When he turned around and watched his men settling into their duties, he noted with contentment that everything was going according to his order again.

Nearly.

Something struck his eye and didn't please him at all.

The last riders were just arriving and among them he spotted James and Judith in what appeared to be a romantic embrace. It was not often the case that Tavington regretted his orders, but now he did. He himself had given permission to Captain Wilkins to take the woman along with him, never knowing Wilkins would have the cheek to show up with her in a presumptuous, loving cuddle. He had put his arms around her in a possessive way and she seemed to be content in the safety of his caring hug.

To tell the truth, neither Judith nor James harbored very romantic feelings for each other at the moment. It had been no fun to ride for hours now sharing one saddle.

Once the Green Dragoons had started to move again, it hadn't taken her long to understand that there was little to no point in leaning back against James' chest in order to find hold. Her back was still aching terribly and really didn't need a refreshment of pain. Thus, Judith had done her utmost to sit up straight. And furthermore, she had soon found out that it helped her to keep her balance on her own, while James was forced to ride the same speedy pace like everybody else.

Nonetheless it was a welcome circumstance that James had his arms around her reassuring her at least a light support.

Now, that they finally came to a long-hoped-for halt, Judith felt the entire extent of the exertion of the last hours. She turned her head aside so that she rested her temple against his chest and closed her eyes. Her body was completely exhausted, her limbs had almost gone numb with all the pain and she cared no longer whether she slumped back into him.

James sympathetically stroked her arms and gave her a solicitous cuddle.

However, Tavington was all but a man of indulgence or generosity and so it angered him to see the apparent display of silent understanding between Judith and James. It had already displeased him when Wilkins had comforted her in the yard, but now that he knew Wilkins had stronger feelings for her than just sympathy, he felt the urge to call a halt to their present confidentiality, which was extremely disagreeable to him.

Tavington interrupted his current activities and set to meet the two of them personally to forestall their attachment to each other.

Not that he had developed a sudden miraculous and strong affection for Judith in the first place, but the fact that someone else was laying claim to her just rubbed him the wrong way. To see the both of them in an unintentional yet intimate, tight hug stirred up his greed and jealousy. He would no longer tolerate their loving familiarity with each other. If that woman needed a chest to nestle against then she would have to be content with his.

And added to this, it was a marvelous occasion to set another boundary to the colonial intruder, James Wilkins.

"Captain Wilkins, you are late!" Tavington pointed out with an annoyed voice. James and Judith had not yet really arrived when Tavington gave them such a frosty reception.

"Excuse me, Sir," James answered warily, "It's not that easy to ride with two…"

"None of your excuses, Captain!" in a violent fit of temper Tavington cut him short. "I expect you to dedicate yourself to your duty all out; always and any time!"

"Aye, Sir!" James stood at attention automatically as he had become subdued at once with the icy welcome.

"Very well, Captain. Then you will certainly not mind to take on an extra duty subsequent to your arrival, will you?" For seconds Tavington and James eyed each other with hostility. James understood very well that it was the Colonel's sole and only interest to separate him from Judith and it bothered him to have no means to avoid it. Without waiting for James to answer, Tavington addressed Judith, "You, Madam, may dismount now."

Judith was entirely willing to follow his order, but it was impossible for her to dismount with James sitting behind her. Well-behaved, she waited for him to get off first.

"Not so daring this time, are you?" Tavington dropped his pointed remark with a sneer.

Judith understood that he was referring to the incidence this early afternoon, when she had jumped from horseback without much asking, and didn't answer.

James felt called upon to lend her a hand and was about to dismount, but Tavington told him off.

"Captain, you stay where you are!" Tavington ordered in a sharp voice. "Your services will be needed in another place. Let's see, whether our little tomboy here will be able to help herself."

Judith's mind raced. She knew she had to act and quickly reflected on her possibilities. It filled her with the greatest uneasiness when it burst upon her that there was only one practicable way to get off that horse. Anxiously Judith stared at Tavington, who returned her gaze totally unmoved. The wickedness in his eyes told her clearly that it was exactly this way he expected her to dismount and she understood that it was his very subtle kind of retribution for her misbehavior when she had tried to take her letters away from him.

Judith had painfully learned that it was pointless to ask a man like Colonel Tavington to reconsider and so she thought it best not to keep him waiting unnecessarily.

Without a single word of objection, she leaned back against James to shift her weight. James did his best to give her support. One last time, Judith held tight on to his arms and peered reassuringly around. Everybody was busy with something and didn't seem to be all too much interested in her problem. Thus, she regarded the moment right and quickly swung her leg over the neck of the horse. Just as expected, there was no way she could avoid her skirt slipping back to her hips.

To Judith, it appeared to be a matter of endless minutes that she was fixed in this unfavorable, exposed position, which seemed to leave her most intimate parts just barely covered, giving unrestricted sight to every man. She did not wear a single piece of undergarment since Tavington had shredded it. Suddenly it couldn't be fast enough for her that she got out of the safety of James' embrace right into the most feared arms of Colonel Tavington. And not regarding the fact that it scared her to death to be taken away from James, she felt grateful to stand on firm ground with her skirt back in its proper place.

Judith prayed that nobody had watched her. Again she hastily glanced around. With some relief she could detect that she seemed to be granted at least a little blessing in disguise. Despite her misgivings, nobody was gaping at her. The men were concerned with their own stuff and proceeded with their work as if nothing had happened.

Merely one man had been lucky enough to take a very short peep at the delicate private place between her legs, though. And it had not been Tavington, although he stood nearest.

Unnoticed by anybody, it was Captain Bordon who had been in the best position to watch and delight in Judith's ungraceful attempt to dismount. Strictly speaking, he was not even really sure if he had seen anything at all, for it was only for the split of a second that her spread legs were just in the right angle toward him to give him an idea of her most womanly place. In every case it had been enough to inspire some very wishful thoughts that set him on fire.

Way too soon she had landed clumsily but safe and sound in Tavington's arms and Bordon kept on unsaddling his horse as if nothing had led his attention astray. He chuckled to himself: nobody had taken notice of his pleasurable outlook. It was his clandestine thrill of joy alone and for the moment he would keep it to himself.

If Judith had been aware of it, her stomach would have turned. So, it was her greatest fear to be left alone at the mercy of Colonel Tavington.

James Wilkins felt ill at ease in a very similar way and only reluctantly he asked, "What is my order, Sir?"

"Captain Wilkins, since you know this area best, I want you to take the first watch tonight," Tavington wasted indeed no time to make Judith's worst nightmare come true, when he ordered James away from her to guard the camp. "Go and find yourself an advantageous place for your duty! Now!" When Tavington saw that Captain Wilkins was not immediately following his order, though, as he unhurriedly untied the sewing basket to give it back to Judith, he stepped up to him.

"Do you have a problem with the word 'now', Captain?" he asked in irritation.

James Wilkins had straightened up in his saddle, "No, Sir. I haven't." he replied with bridled annoyance. "Your order is received and understood. I only thought I'd give this back before I part…"

Tavington ripped the basket out of Wilkins' hands and pointed out the priority of his order by a sharp, menacing: "Leave the thinking to me! My orders are to be followed at your earliest convenience! Are we clear!"

"Aye, Sir!" With pretended zeal he tipped at his helmet, gritting his teeth. Then he turned his horse and rode off.

Quivering with fright, Judith stood at Colonel Tavington's side. With a swift, powerful movement, he pressed the sewing basket upon her and set about to stride off into another direction. Powerlessly, she watched James riding away from her and she was terribly afraid of staying in the camp without him. New tears poured from her eyes. She sniffed and wiped her face with a sleeve of the borrowed red coat.

When she looked up again, she caught sight of Captain Bordon, who observed her somehow warily. He was about to lead his now unsaddled horse to the water and barred her view of James who was leaving. Judith couldn't help but reading disdain and disapproval toward her in his looks. He had riveted his eyes on her and seemed to register her every single movement.

Bordon truly examined every inch of her. He boldly searched her from head to toe, hoping to be granted another small peep of her bare skin anywhere that would rally his sexual fantasies. Fervently, he speculated on what she would look like under his coat.

From what he had seen in the barn, he knew her dress was severely damaged and now he wondered whether her breasts happened to rub against the fabric of his coat. And if so, what did she feel? Had the friction already let her nipples harden? The idea of a full, rounded breast in ecstasy called a lustful smile upon his face. What a nuisance that Tavington had claimed her already!

Anyway, thoughts were free and in his mind he painted an untroubled picture of himself seducing that woman. Before his mental eye Tavington had no say in that matter and he, Frank Bordon, alone would delight in exploring her body. In his fantasy the Colonel was a nobody who might consider himself lucky, if he could barely manage to watch him having a go/start on her at best.

Although he would never admit to it, Bordon was tired of playing second fiddle. It bothered him to see Tavington taking the best of everything while he had to content himself with the crumbs that happened to fall from the Colonel's table. Disgruntled about this bitter realization the rapt smile vanished from his face as his expression darkened.

That was when Judith had looked up. She saw him glowering at her. Hence, Judith totally misinterpreted the close stare of Captain Borden. She believed he was still peeved about the derision to which Tavington had subjected him due to his erroneous conclusion about the letters. Maybe he thought she had taken the better of their argument, since the letters were safely hidden from anybody's sight in her sewing box again and in addition to that she had been allowed to keep the coat on.

The coat! Of course! Finally Judith had realized that it was _his_ coat and most probably he didn't appreciate her moistening it with her tears. She stopped sobbing and wiped the rest with her hands away. She even made an attempt to lighten his tiff and managed to muster a small apologizing smile.

Telling from his unceasing glare, her gesture did not placate him. Obviously he still grudged her the luxury of wearing his coat. And although it was her last bastion to hide from view, she suddenly felt most uncomfortable in it. Intuitively she tried to get away from him. But after only a few steps backwards she ran into something hard. A mix of pain and terror flashed through her body. She had not given heed to Tavington, who had stopped only a few feet behind her to wait for her. It was the handle of his saber, which had painfully hit her back. She shrieked and started with horror.

"Pull yourself together, Madam," Tavington said frowningly. "Those, who show their weakness so clearly are usually the ones who will be attacked first." He stirred up her fright. "Get your gear and follow me!"

Judith held tight onto her sewing basket and cared to hurry after Tavington. Wherever he would lead her, she had no desire to stay any longer under the odd stare of Captain Bordon.

Something in the look of that man gave her the creeps and filled her with an indefinable uneasiness. Not regarding the fact that Tavington had done the worst to her, oddly enough, he seemed to be the minor evil.

The moment Judith turned her back to Captain Bordon, the desirous smile returned to his face. Even dressed in a man's coat, which was way too big and unbecoming to her, she still radiated an irresistible feminine charm. It pleased and flattered him to see that he had been able to rattle her.

Unlike most women, who scarcely granted him any recognition once the Colonel came in play, this woman here had undeniably taken notice of him.

He had a joyful feeling they would be the perfect match. She was just his cup of tea and the more he thought about it the more he got stuck to the idea she too had taken a liking to him. He remembered her sight in the barn when the Colonel had been done with her. She'd appeared so alluring and fragile at the same time that he couldn't help but offering his coat to her. Without a moment's hesitation she had accepted it and in return she'd given him such a deeply grateful look he would never forget.

Later, when it had come to the incidence with the letters, despite his anger, he'd got even fonder of her. Subconsciously, it had enticed him to see her getting upset, even furious about him sorting through her letters. And on second thoughts, he regarded it as a fine hint of fate that it had fallen to _his_ lot to take hold of her. Once in his embrace she had turned out to be just the perfect armful for him. That she had gotten out of his hands was no more than an annoying adversity, which definitely wouldn't occur a second time.

And now that she seemed to feel a little disconcerted under his eyes, she would rather meet him with respect as her marvelous fearfully widened eyes had told him when she had tried to place a smile in his direction.

Maybe it was her silent begging for forgiveness and a first shy request to him to save her from the Colonel, since Captain Wilkins had failed to do so. Searching for a new hero was the only natural consequence of her dilemma, Bordon told himself and obviously she had decided on him.

However, all in all it was an extremely appealing mixture that needed only one further seasoning: Passion.

And Frank Bordon was convinced he could draw it from her when occasion arose.

At the same time, someone else was reflecting on his relationship to Judith.Only that James Wilkins' thoughts and feelings were considerably less frivolous.

For him it was rather like collecting the few pieces of a former immaculate illusion that had been hopelessly destroyed in the emotional tempest of the last few hours. He sat in front of a heap of broken dreams and the more he stirred it the more they went to pieces.

James Wilkins stood on top of a rise and let his eye wander over the recently built camp he had been sent to guard, knowing that the person who needed his shelter most was left behind without protection.

What was he doing here?

Instead of following his conscience he was following an order of a man who seemed to have no conscience. Full of self-disgust he kicked away a stone as hard as he could, meaning to kick someone else.

Judith had asked for his support and all he had been able to give her were some empty phrases of consolation created by his own helplessness. He remembered how firmly Judith had clutched to his arms out of mere desperation and on the very first opportunity he had failed to be her reliable guardian. How could he claim to be her friend when he did not even attempt to shield her as there was danger ahead? It rankled that he had abandoned her to Tavington so cowardly. He despised himself. He was not worth being her friend.

Dejected, he sat down. Lost in those painful thoughts he grasped a handful of dusty ground and held on to it tight with firm pressure. It was a piece of the land where his family had spread roots.

James Wilkins had grown up as the son of the owner of a great plantation.

From the early days of his childhood on he had learned that people met him with respect due to the influential social position of his father. And it stood to reason that one day James would inherit the position and property of his father.

Being the heir of a wealthy man, James had had the benefit of a carefree youth and a good education. But he had neither been taught to form himself an opinion of his own nor to fight for his aims.

Oh, yes, certainly he had a firm opinion and a rigid angle to watch the world. Long before James would take up his father's business he had adopted his political outlook and ethics. He was no fanatic but he had taken it for granted to be given liberty and welfare by birth.

No one had ever expected him to make up his own mind on that matter but merely encouraged him to be proud of his privileged position as a member of upper class society. James had never seen need to reflect critically on this attitude as he was on top of the social hierarchy and well off with that. His whole life he had been prepared to be a leader one day, only to find out that he knew nothing about responsibility at all. He had perfectly adjusted to his role as a superior person and prided himself on his special standing. For what reason, he wondered now.

Disenchanted, he set about to comprehend why he had been so very much mistaken. It hurt him to see that all his life he had believed in a fallacy. After his father's death he would advance to become the head of his family, but he would hardly ever be a person in charge. Virtues like authority, steadfastness, reliability, honor, and moral courage were not to be inherited but had to be gained by every individual. At the moment he was lacking each and everyone of them. He was far from being an honorable, free man. He was no more than a slave, a slave of his spinelessness.

He felt sick. Consumed with the yet undigested impressions of the day's events, he proceeded in pondering his past.

As long as he could think, he had never experienced privation. Thus, he had not learned to overcome obstacles using his own resources. Whenever a problem had occurred his family had known how to solve it, and what was more, had solved it in his stead.

The only time this hadn't been the case, was when he had taken a liking to Judith.

His father was not all too pleased that his son was going to court a woman who was below their social rank. James was supposed to marry a well-bred young lady from a wealthy family. And Judith, decent as she was, did not fit into the image of a proper daughter-in-law that James' father had in mind. And as marriage was family-business, his father had decided that James had better call on Elisabeth Putnam, the daughter of a highly esteemed family.

As James was used to respect his father's wishes he did not object and yielded to them for the time being, at least to keep up appearances.

Once he had made closer acquaintance with Elisabeth he had got fond of her quickly, though, and tried to forget about Judith.

Everything seemed to be in perfect order again, until Benjamin Martin had started to show his interest in Elisabeth Putnam as well. In no time she was so enthralled by Benjamin's charms that James had soon lost the race for her favor. And strange to say, it had bothered his father more than himself as James had never really got Judith out of his mind. In fact he was rather glad he could take up his former efforts to call on Judith.

Only that he needed to play things a little more safe now, since he had no desire to attract his father's annoyance a second time.

Back on the market again, James Wilkins was very well aware of his situation as a bachelor in great demand and that people would observe his further efforts of courtship with close interest. Knowing how fast gossip could spread and knowing about his father's avowed disapproval for a liaison with Judith, James forwarded his letters to her in secrecy.

For James it had been a bold act in two different ways.

With his letters he had meant to impress Judith. He had a romantic vein, which he had never been allowed to show as according to public opinion it was unbecoming of a man in his position to bother with poetry and the like.

James knew about Judith's sense and appreciation for arts and literature from their common days of school. Thus, he felt encouraged, at least for once in his life, not to care about what others might think and had started to write his letters to Judith. It was the perfect outlet for him. Here he could give free reign to both, his want to tell Judith frankly about his true and heartfelt emotions toward her and his talent to express himself by using the mightiest and most colorful words he could think of.

Added to this it gave him the satisfaction to have found a way to oppose his father's demands. With every new dispatch for Judith he felt like a rebel in disguise.

Nonetheless, out of the apprehension his letters might get him into disgrace or trouble he had only signed them with a mysterious, simple 'W', so he could always disclaim to be the initiator.

What a fool he had been!

He had never watched himself in such unpleasant light before. A fine hero he was, not even daring to put his full name under his writing. It was only now that he understood that he had no more than evidenced himself a true craven.

Without noticing it, he had slightly opened his hand and some of the finer, dry dust was falling back to the ground. Seeing this, he realized that this earth was a part of what he called home; a part of his past, present and future and now it was getting out of his hand, running through his fingers, while he did nothing but watch it.

When Judith had not appreciated his affirmation of affection but instead had turned more unapproachable than ever before, he had believed her silence to his advances was meant to pay him back for his temporary interest in Elisabeth. How could he have been so blind? Quiet seriously, he had talked himself into the idea Judith would reconsider as time went by and forgive his mistake one day. Now it dawned on him that he had better _ask_ forgiveness. Much too late he had seen what had made her keep silent.

With the hand in which was still a rest of the soil, James clenched his fist until it hurt.

Never before had it come to his mind she might have taken offence at his gutlessness or even worse had laughed at his romantic lines, just as Tavington had alleged. How could he have been so ignorant not to see behind the curtain that had fallen between him and Judith. With only a little more pluck from his side he could have thrust aside this network of misunderstandings, disappointment and unspoken accusations at long last that had barred their way. Did it really take a foreigner like Colonel William Tavington to come along and point out the truth to him?

Tavington! Tavington! Damn!

James needed to do something, anything! If he kept sitting here any longer, he would explode. He knew it was high time to stand up. He had to stand up for Judith, he needed to stand up for himself! James felt that his chest was way too small for all the anger, guilty conscience and self-reproaches; if he didn't let off some steam, he would explode with self-contempt.

All of a sudden James jumped to his feet and flew into a tantrum. He flung the dirt in his hand far away from him. In a mad fit of temper he gave vent to his rage. Like a madman, he kicked several stones and beat the branches of a near bush.

Only by the time he went out of breath, James ceased his pointless action and calmed down.

Now that his mind had cleared up a little, he couldn't help but thinking of Judith. He wished he could talk to her for he was sure she would bring some clarity and order into his troubled mind. But then again, what reason did he have to be so sure about it? Never had she replied to any of his letters. He actually knew so little about her.

Colonel Tavington had denounced his letters as nonsense.

But what did Judith think about them? She had kept them, very well. But was Tavington right, was it for amusement? Suddenly he remembered the letter in his pocket. He reached for it and hesitated. Had he really believed he could impress her with his swollen speeches? Did he really want to read more of his overloaded rant? Well, if he wanted clarity, he had to face some irksome truths.

He pulled out the wrinkled envelope and opened it. To his surprise, he saw that it was not his handwriting. Did she receive letters from another admirer? Hastily, he searched for the sender and it struck him. It was a letter from Sarah. He felt the whole weight of guilt pressing heavily on his shoulders. His head swam.

No, there was no way he could back out now. He pulled himself together and began to read:

_Dear Judith,_

_You may wonder that I write this letter to you, since it was only yesterday that we had a long conversation. But I feel that we did not speak about the most important thing as you know how to artfully change topics as soon as it comes to James Wilkins. _

_Yes, my dear, I can see you blush now. You may mislead others with your obvious disinterest in that man, but you can't deceive me. I am your friend. Thus, I regard it as my obligation to tell you a thing or two, before you're pulling in a wrong direction with the whole fuss you are making. I would also have told you personally, but you simply refuse to listen to me, so I write these lines to you and, please, read!_

_Do you remember the time Michael had started to call on me? It was you who advised me to keep him waiting for a certain time. And I will not deny that it worked out very well for me. _

_But the silence you keep toward James is just too much now. What's the point of putting him off for so long? I know you're fond of him, no matter what you say. How much longer do you want to play that silly game? Why do you keep rejecting him so persistently? _

_If you should regard it as a kind of funny game, stop it! If you don't appreciate receiving his letters in the future, go and tell him. _

_Otherwise it is about time for you to put your cards on the table. If you have serious feelings for him, please, give him at least a small hint of your affection. It won't compromise you. James is a nice, decent fellow, he'd rather cut off his hand before he would get you into trouble. So, come off your high horse before it is too late! It is one thing to keep a man waiting in suspense, it is another to act like a statue of stone towards him._

_I see, that you're different from the average girls around and that you still have these admirable plans for your future, which seem to leave no place for marriage, and still, I can't imagine that you want to stay alone for the rest of your life. Just call me pragmatic, but from my point of view, James was just the right one to support you and your plans with both his mind and money. Quite frankly, it shouldn't hurt to marry a fortune._

_But it hurts me to see how much difficulties you have in dealing with your emotions. What's wrong? You and James would make such a nice couple. _

_You've always been a good reliable friend to me and you've helped me out so many times in every respect. Now I feel, it's my turn and I should be glad to reciprocate for all of it; take my advice and listen to your heart! _

_Think of it, one day even the most patient admirer will be tired of an all too stubborn woman. _

_With that being said, I'm looking forward to your visit next week. It's about time to widen my dresses. With every new day, the baby seems to claim more space. _

_Love,_

_Sarah_

James swallowed hard. How much guilt could a man load upon his shoulders?

With a dry mouth and watering eyes, James put down the letter. At that moment he saw neither need nor point in adhering to fake self-control and uttered a heavy sob.

Not enough that his composure was already in a terrible tangle, this letter made it even worse.

Sarah was dead and he had read her lines in devout silence. Although knowing it was practically impossible, still, in his mind, James could hear her voice with an appallingly real sound echoing through his head, haunting his soul.

Either way, this letter was difficult to bear as it revealed more to him than he had ever wished to find out.

His early cheer over the pleasing ascertainment that Judith had indeed feelings for him had shrunken to insignificance by reading ahead.

Sarah had meant to put in a good word for him and he had thanked her for it with treason.

He felt his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

Unintentionally his hand cramped and crumpled the letter. Suddenly the paper seemed to burn his fingers.

In a wild haste he put up the letter again in order to flatten and fold it away. On that occasion his glance fell on the writing again and he noticed that Sarah's signature had nearly vanished. All what was left over from it was a taint of blurred ink.

It was only then that he realized that he was actually crying.

Some of his tears had nearly extinguished her name and he had a feeling as if he had just murdered her a second time.

For a moment he almost forgot to breathe. And right into this desperate helplessness another voice had forced its way to his mind and made itself heard. This time he remembered Judith telling him: _'We always have a choice, James Wilkins!' _

Yet knowing, she had said it in reproach, he saw the challenge in it now.

If he didn't want to detest himself for the rest of his life, he needed to change. He had to talk to Judith, apologize, put things straight and redeem himself for his failures.

When there was always a choice, there would be a choice for him now and in the future. Perhaps it was not yet too late, perhaps he could really change.

At the moment, though, he had no idea how. What could he do? There was no way he could act openly against Colonel Tavington's orders or let alone simply quit the army.

So, what could he actually do to help Judith? He promised himself, whatever was to come he wouldn't act so cowardly again. No matter how badly he had failed in the past, next time Judith needed his help, he would be prepared.

Down in the camp, near the creek Frank Bordon had just promised himself the exact same thing. Next time that woman needed to be helped, he would be prepared. Still, his basic intentions were not as honorable as those of James Wilkins by far.

Since Tavington had left the camp with Judith, Bordon had delighted in recalling what he had already seen of her body and he tried to picture out in vivid detail how pleasurable it would be to give her alluring physique a closer examination.

As far as real life was concerned though, it was beyond his boldest expectations what he actually got to see at that moment.

Not long after Tavington and the woman had vanished from sight, Frank Bordon had felt the urge to relieve himself. For that purpose, he had withdrawn from the busy camp to procure himself a place and moment, in which he would be undisturbed. Intuitively, he'd left the camp in the same direction that Colonel Tavington and the woman had taken. It was not that he intended to spy on them, he had simply followed his subconscious wish to get closer to the woman.

Captain Bordon had just finished the simple act of emptying his bladder when his attention got caught by a movement further up the creek.

At first, he believed in a mere figment of his imagination, a trick his longing mind was playing on him. Bordon shut his eyes and opened them quickly again. To his delight, the scenery had not changed a bit.

Through lightly swinging branches, he saw the woman who had so stoked the fire of his passion sitting near the creek, not wearing a single stitch of clothing, the colonel fully dressed behind her.

Bordon opened his mouth with incredulous astonishment at the pleasurable picture that had just revealed itself before him.

It was a riddle to Bordon how the colonel always found a way to bring the fair sex round. Not long ago Tavington had given her hell and now she was eating out of his hand. Without showing any sign of reluctance, she cut a fine figure in the buff as she squatted before Tavington, sweetening the time he had elected to be off-duty.

Whatever the colonel's method was, for the moment Frank Bordon was just content to witness the result of Tavington's miraculous skill of persuasion.

Under cover of the light-green leafy branches, Bordon gazed at the unveiled beauty of Judith. There he stood in speechless fascination, with his breeches unbuttoned, one hand still on his member and not trusting his eyes.

Not even the fact that Colonel Tavington was close behind the woman caressing her back could spoil his bliss. Although he could have done without Tavington's presence, Bordon could not avoid to get spellbound by the lure of Judith's breathtaking curves. Obviously that woman had enough magic in her to bewitch more than one man at the same time.

Captured by the stunning sight of Judith's unclothed body, Bordon continued to keep his eyes on her and could hardly believe his good luck when things became even better. The woman had reached for her hair and put it up high so that it wouldn't hinder Tavington in his actions. To Bordon, it was as if she was posing just for him now, the unnoticed spectator.

Frank Bordon took it for an unspoken invitation. Overwhelmed with rapture, he simply ignored the presence of his superior officer and fully concentrated on the object of his desire. The Colonel's attendance could not thwart his basic instincts as Bordon felt his member growing.

He had full sight of the shapely frame of Judith. He yearned to touch her well endowed breasts and wished to grasp and grope them to perfect his bliss. Instead he tightened the grip on the most sensitive part of his own body. He simply couldn't resist to satisfy the hot burning desire of the flesh.

His member in the embrace of his hand had hardened. He began to massage it from the shaft to the top and back again. The movements of his hand became faster and faster, firmly rubbing the most sensitive part of his body until it had grown to full length. He indulged in the thrilling sensations that he felt when his hard member thrust into the hollow space of his curved palm.

It was not the first time Frank Bordon saw need to gratify his sexual desire by using his hand. Despite the nearly ever present host of camp followers, it was nothing unusual among the soldiers to serve themselves and save their pay. At times they could just not afford it or had only little to no occasion to attend one of the love maids for reasons of duty. However, living in the cramped circumstances of a military camp with close contact to each other and only little space for one's privacy, Frank Bordon had learned to deal with his most intimate needs in silence. Many times before, he had appeased his carnal appetite with a good hand-job only separated from his comrades by a simple and not exactly soundproof tent wall.

And so this time not a single sound escaped from him when his hot seed squirted right in the lap of nature.


	8. The Butcher and the Calves

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 8 – The Butcher and the Calves

Judith had clutched her sewing basket and followed on Tavington's heel. Their way led them away from the camp and up the creek. After a while Judith wondered where he wanted to take her. They were already a considerable distance away from the camp and she became more and more apprehensive. Not that there was reason for Judith to suppose any of the men would lift a finger in case she cried for help, but just the fact that they might possibly not even hear her, increased her fear tenfold. Whatever the Colonel had planned for her, he obviously had taken thorough care to avoid any witnesses.

When Tavington had pushed her sewing basket on her, she had truly believed he had meant to make her mend her dress. But with every further step her doubts increased. Did he ever actually say that the two of them would set off for that special purpose? She couldn't remember having heard him putting it in explicit words. She needed, she wanted clarity.

Gathering all her courage, Judith finally dared to ask, "Where are we going, Sir?"

"Oh, I thought we find us a leisurely spot for your needlework", he said and sounded nonchalant. "Unless, of course, you prefer to mend your dress in eyeshot of my men. I'm positive, they wouldn't mind", Tavington joked.

His sense of humor made her shudder, a hair-raising imagination that made her move even faster.

Although Tavington had just stated his rather harmless intentions, it did nothing to allay her misgivings. Judith didn't trust him. His considerate behavior simply didn't fit with all he had done to her before. Why would he care to spare her further disgrace? It made no sense to her. In the end, he was probably misleading her and she would be careless to believe him. Possibly the whole fuss about her dress and sewing basket was a perfidious means to lull her into a false sense of security. Maybe he wanted to violate her again. Maybe she was on her final walk. Maybe both of it.

Whatever was to come, Judith refused to rush headlong into destruction. She didn't want to give in that easily.

"Why do I have to come along with you at all? What's the point of holding me captive?" Judith did her best to keep her voice clear of accusation and forced herself to simply sound matter-of-factly. "You've already got what you wanted, I think. I'm of no particular use to you any more. You see, I'm pretty sure you could move a lot faster without me," she was attempting to reach his rational senses. If she could make him see that it was not efficient to bother with her presence, he would probably agree to release her.

Alas, she also could have spoken to a brick-wall as her words seemed to glance off him unheard. Tavington showed not the least bit of a reaction, he just kept on walking.

Struggling against an increasing disquiet, Judith tried another tactic. She changed her tone. In a soft, imploring voice she appealed to his sympathy, "Please, Sir, I beg of you, Sir, listen to me.

I will not meddle in your business ever again. I assure you, I've learned my lesson, Sir. You see, there's no need to bother with me any longer. You might simply take up your actual duty and I won't cross your way a second time. I promise. So, why don't you…, I mean…" Judith stammered and finally broke off as she hesitated to come up with what she was driving at. Uncertain about Tavington's reaction to her plea, she wrestled with herself to say it aloud.

Hidden from Judith's sight, Tavington made a face of disgust and rolled his eyes in annoyance over her poor attempts to get herself out of harm's way.

"Are you sure it's such a smart move to point out your uselessness to me? What exactly are you suggesting?" he asked with restrained impatience while he still kept on walking. He did not even bother to look at her.

Forced by Tavington to speak plainly Judith staked everything on one card now as she asked openly, "Can you not just let me go?"

Tavington stopped short.

"You wish to take your leave, Madam?" Quickly, he had turned around and held his weapon in firing position, aiming openly at her.

Judith stopped in her motion like petrified.

She looked at his face and her eyes widened with terror as she saw the same sober air of determination, which he had displayed before he had shot Sarah. Judith had no doubt: Her fate was sealed. Tavington's expression was one of cool consideration. Killing was his trade and he would do it efficiently. Caring not to waste a shot he took his aim thoroughly now.

Was that the way how one's terminal moment took place?

Judith felt the blood go to her feet while a thousand of thoughts rushed through her head.

She held tight onto her sewing box, well knowing though, it wouldn't shield her. Tavington had deceived her successfully. Never had he had in mind to give her the chance of mending her dress. Finally he was showing his true colors.

In her terrified mind, every movement slowed down in such a profound way that Tavington appeared to her like a statue. She gazed at the muzzle of his loaded weapon, which had suddenly become the fixed point of her universe.

With a mad rush of her adrenalin-flooded brain, she noticed every detail:

His black-gloved hand holding the weapon with supple skill, his blood red uniform adorned with golden buttons glittering in the low sun and the fur-topped helmet that made him appear even taller and mightier than he was anyway.

And added to all of this, there was that fearsome self-assurance in his look that completed the impressive appearance of a legitimate executioner.

Colonel William Tavington was right in his element and with that the paragon of the stately royal soldier, perfectly dressed to kill.

Tavington released the safety-catch of his weapon, which produced a small clicking sound.

To Judith it was a horrid noise that faded out all other sounds around her.

She couldn't hear any chirping of birds, no rustle of leaves, no ripple of the nearby brook. All she heard was the hard, dry breath of her own, abnormally loud rattling through her head, in and out, in and out, in and out...

'Oh my God, don't let it end like this', she thought, 'I don't want to die yet. I don't want to die that way. I don't want to die. I don't want to die!' she madly repeated to herself until her lips started to form the words and eventually it burst from her: "I don't want to die!"

Another unending moment passed.

"I quite believe it, Madam", Tavington said calmly before he put down his weapon.

Judith turned her head gratefully heavenward. She closed her eyes and gave a sigh of relief. When she opened her eyes again the movements and sounds had turned back to normality.

"Who wouldn't cling to one's life?", Tavington continued a bit bored as if he wanted to blame her for the only little witty attempt to save her life. Condescendingly he sized her up and added with disdain: "As miserable as it ever may be, though."

Judith didn't object, she was still under shock and trembled like an aspen leaf.

"Stop it, Madam! Calm down now, calm down!" he ordered incensed and without waiting for Judith to compose herself he went on: "I really hate to repeat myself, Madam, so listen carefully to me now: If you wish to stay alive, don't you ever do that again! No more begging out of you! You got that?"

Tavington had stepped up to her. Her fearfully widened eyes told him that Judith would have agreed to anything he demanded of her right now. She was way too terrified to understand the ulterior meaning of his words. But Tavington wanted her to understand.

Before she could nod, he continued his lecture.

"You may not believe it but I myself have experienced how hard and unfair life can be. And never has it helped to give in to cowardice and complain and plead for the mercy of others. I'm tired of people who resort to begging for their lives. All the weeping and gnashing of teeth! It makes me sick!"

With growing rancor, Tavington had shouted the words at her.

The powerful volume of his angered voice had given rise to a perilous calm, which followed his words on the heel.

And still, in the face of her fear, Judith couldn't hold back speaking all too rashly right into the tense silence between them. It was more a spontaneous thought, uttered under her breath, than a serious objection, when she said, "Has it ever occurred to you that you in no small measure are the reason for the people's dread and sorrow?"

"Don't give me that line, Madam!" The sharp menacing tone of his voice sent a cold shower down her spine. "I'm no more and no less guilty of their misery than every other person involved in this conflict. More so as I'm not the one who has initiated it."

Realizing the highly provocative insolence in her remark, Judith bit her lower lip. She looked up to him and froze when she saw the smolder of his fury in his steel-gray eyes. The wings of his nose trembled slightly as he took a deep breath. Judith felt her heart dropping into her boots.

However, unexpected quickly, Colonel Tavington had got his sudden rage under control.

"Of course, I know about my reputation," he replied with a sober and calm voice, "and I was lying if I said that I minded it. You see, I rather have them fear me, even hate me as long as they spare me their lamentation. All those meek poltroons simply don't deserve to stay alive."

"No man I know who has left for war is lacking of valor, Sir," Judith could not resist to plead on behalf of the men she knew from the neighborhood. "They're not meek nor poltroons either. All of them are honorable and brave men!"

"Oh Madam! Don't fool yourself. Do you really think you'd know them? Honor, bravery, and you think that would be enough? You have no idea. Believe me, you would be amazed how fast those men change on the battlefield.

True, you Colonials are said to be people who take their lives in their own hands. Aside many poor qualities there's one trait of you that earns my admiration. For I will not deny that your strong belief in the idea that everything is possible as long as you follow your aims with determination and without fear is exceedingly intriguing to me.

To my regret I have to say that in my time of serving the Crown here on this continent I've hardly ever met a Colonial who would have lived up to this image.

Instead, I see men who leave their families behind. They flock together in ominous troops of militia that hide cowardly in the woods, ambushing brave British soldiers. Is that the slithery swampy foundation on which you fancy you can raise a whole new nation? It's a shame and a pity! Is that all you have to put forth for the assertion of your ideals?

Even your regular soldiers fight with the skill of schoolboys crossing wooden sticks, only to raise their hands like effeminate sissies when it comes to a head. First they rehearse rebellion, in an emergency they are afraid to face the consequences. I can't hear that cowardly pleading for mercy any more."

"You're a liar," Judith said plainly. She was not inclined to believe a single word.

"Those you hear pleading for mercy are defenseless, innocent women and children who have no other way to save themselves from your brutal and unfair attacks."

"Oh really? It's breaking my heart, Madam", Tavington remarked with sarcasm. "Quite frankly, I don't give a damn!" he declared coldly. "What you've got to understand is that you cannot climb on the top of a mountain and complain about the echo when you shout. You may blame me for my ruthlessness, but let's face it: It's their own fault! You Colonials have brought this on yourselves. I'm sure, when you proclaimed your independence, you were not so worried. Please Madam, correct me, if I'm wrong."

"The decision to go to war with England was made by men," Judith held against it. "No woman had a say in that matter."

"Certainly not!" Tavington was truly astounded by that remark of her.

The very idea that a woman's opinion could be of any weight in a political matter was ludicrous. Where did she take the nerve?

Beyond that, Tavington was surprised and confused to see Judith holding her ground staunchly. In no time she had regained a healthy amount of self-possession. As a rule, people in her situation, who had just been eye to eye with the muzzle of his weapon, which usually meant to face death, were scarcely able to rule themselves. Truth be told, Tavington had not reckoned on such an immediate compliance with his demand to show some proof of a backbone.

Acknowledging that her reaction was one he had just asked for, Tavington was not pleased. Her unexpected quickness of repartee bordered at effrontery and almost aroused his anger anew. He had meant to give her a lecture and instead he found himself holding an argument with that woman! Under no circumstances would he let her put him out.

"However," he went on, "I hardly can imagine that those women and children of the men who voted for the levy wouldn't cheer with a victory of the Colonials. So I can't see why they should be spared from suffering defeat. No, Madam, there are only two sorts of people: Those who are with me and those who are against me. Men or women, young or old, that doesn't make a difference. Caught together, hanged together. I'm sick of that host of life-begging fools!

What life is this you have to beg for? Mother Nature hardly ever shows mercy on her creatures. So why should I? The beings not able to defend themselves are always the first to die. It's only natural, a simple and ingenious assurance that only the strong survive. Life, Madam, is a reward for those who stand up and fight!"

Judith fought.

She fought her tears and anger. She battled fiercely to keep her self-control. Unintentionally, Tavington had opened a dark, carefully closed chapter of her past.

"One's survival, Sir, is not always a matter of valor or strength. I've endured other things so far," she said with an amazingly cool and composed voice that stood in flagrant contradiction to her suddenly tear-filled eyes. His words had sunken into the center of her soul as straight and effortless as a hot blade cut into a piece of butter. Without knowing it, Tavington had called the most horrible memories of her life back into her mind and had unleashed her worst grief.

Tavington sensed her inner strife. Her changed expression evidenced clearly that he finally had managed to steal quite a bit of her thunder. He realized that something in his words must have hit the mark. Yet, Tavington was at a loss of what exactly it was. If it was not for her courage and steadfastness, what else had made her so tenacious of life? What other things was she talking about? More life-threatening things than his weapon aimed at her?

Her answer made him frown. He'd heard her words but didn't understand their meaning.

To conceal his momentary lack of comprehension, he instructed her harshly, "However it may be, do yourself a favor and show some of that intrepid vigor you Colonials are so famous for. Stop wailing, it doesn't suit you!

You think you've learned your lesson?" He shook his head. "Your lessons, Madam, have only just begun. Don't you ever ask mercy of me again! Do you understand!"

Judith nodded eagerly. His message to her was clear-cut: He would not accept any kind of weakness in his presence. He wanted to see her fight for her survival. There was no way he would ever agree to release her. Presumably, he might rather take another slap in the face from her than tolerate any further piteous pleading. From now on she had to play his game and she was supposed to play for victory.

Tavington met her nodding with a stern look. "I hope so, Madam," he commented on Judith's silent agreement and withdrew from her at last.

Just glad that this time he had left it at a lecture, Judith stood still rooted to the spot awaiting his next order.


	9. The Finest Light Cavalry of the World

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 9 – The Finest Light Cavalry of the World

Tavington took another few steps away from Judith. He didn't mean it as an indulgence towards her, though. It was more or less an unconscious act to give both of them a moment's reprieve to cool off their agitated frame of mind.

Tavington recalled the basic purpose of taking her away from the encampment and had a swift look around.

"Well then," he said apparently content with the result of his quick inspection, "let's settle down and engage in the necessities of ordinary life for a change. I think the distance to the camp should do now and this place is just as good as any other one, wouldn't you say?"

Judith understood that he wanted her to finally start her needlework. There was no gainsaying; Tavington was right. Considering the state of her dress and the state of the sun, she did not precisely have time to give away. It was only now, that Judith too searched her immediate surroundings.

Well knowing that his question was one of rhetorical nature, she would have liked to disagree.

To her, the place where they had stopped was as unfavorable as only could be.

With horror, Judith thought of the necessity to get out of the remains of her dress if she wanted to patch them together again. Alas, although there was quite a few of coppice seaming the creek, no bush nor shrub was near enough to sufficiently shield her from Tavington's view.

Yielding to the untoward circumstances, Judith simply turned away from Tavington and began to undress herself. She unbuttoned the red coat, but did not take it off. Instead she nimbly slipped out of each sleeve, which left her wearing the coat like a cape.

The upper part of her dress was so badly damaged that it didn't give her much trouble to strip it off. All that was left to do was to undo the knot of the rope around her waist. She hesitated as she feared this moment the most. As soon as the rope would slacken nothing would keep her dress from falling down. She knew the coat was not that long and would barely cover her buttocks.

She bit her lips and tried to encourage herself. It would only take a few seconds to step out of the dress and to get properly reattired in the coat again, Judith told herself. Once she would sit down to start her work, the dress would come to rest on her lap and cover most of her legs. There was no other way. The sooner she got this over with, the better.

Judith truly hurried but didn't get far. Her dress had only just hit the ground, when she stopped dead in her tracks as she heard Tavington's voice. It had an unmistakable overtone of disapproval when he asked, "Please, tell me Madam, what do you think you are doing there?"

Her every muscle tensed with distress.

"I'm doing just as you ordered, Sir. I'm getting ready to mend my dress." Judith answered shyly and turned even more nervous by her own voice that sounded by far less confident than she had expected. When she slightly turned her head to peek cautiously back over her shoulder, she noticed Tavington drawing nearer.

Terrified of his approach, Judith did not even dare to let her arms slide back into the sleeves or let alone button up the coat.

"Oh really? You're acting on my order you say?" Tavington pretended to contemplate the plausibility of her words. Then he shook his head and declared, "Now, that strikes me a bit strange for I somehow miss the part in which I would have told you to hide from my sight."

"Pardon?" Judith uttered alarmed. "You can see me, can't you?" she replied not overly self-assured. She needed not to turn her head to know that by now the colonel had stepped right behind her.

"You understood me very well, Madam." With that Tavington ripped the coat off of her and threw it aside. Indifferent to Judith's terrified shriek as she found herself unclothed from one second to the other, he continued, "You surely don't think that I've made it all the way up here just to watch your back, do you?"

Judith almost could feel his eyes resting on her. _'How silly of you to worry about not more than just partly covered buttocks,'_ she scolded herself in thoughts. She didn't want to become the victim of his desire again. Desperately wanting for something better she wrapped her arms around herself. _'Be strong! Don't show him how afraid you really are!'_ she mutely impelled herself to prove no weakness. Judith pulled herself together in the best way possible.

"I thought you wanted to assure me some privacy for my needlework. I didn't understand that you would regard it as your private entertainment," she said in return, desperately playing for time.

"First of all, it I did not come here to have words with you," Tavington hissed at her warningly. "Why not combine business with pleasure?" he suggested sweetly then.

As Judith still didn't move, Tavington ordered her coldly: "Turn around!"

Although intimidated by his demanding voice, Judith followed his order only slowly. Her modesty was at least as great as her fear of him. She lowered her head.

Judith knew well that her nakedness was no novelty to Tavington and that it made little to no sense if she tried to keep a secret that had been unveiled not long ago. Nevertheless, in a gesture of shame, she tried to ensure herself at least a last small measure of protection. While her right arm barred her breasts, her left hand sank further down to cover the most intimate place between her legs.

When she nervously peeped at him again, Tavington appeared to be amused. Yet it was a cold smile that played around his mouth and told her only too clearly that the colonel was not inclined to allow her even this tiny space of privacy.

"Don't be funny, Madam," Tavington sneered at her desperate attempt to hide from his view. "You had better cease that poor camouflage now. What's the point of it? It's ridiculous at best."

His subtle aura of malice was unbearable. Judith fought the strong urge to simply turn around and run away from him. She knew she wouldn't get far. At the mere thought of what she would be in for in case the colonel had to take the trouble to chase after her to thwart her flight, Judith preferred to stay. Still, she couldn't manage to return Tavington's stare and averted her face. Anxiously she did her best to stand her ground.

Tavington's amusement was short-lived. He did not appreciate her shamefaced masquerade.

"You cannot have forgotten about all I've told you only a couple of minutes ago. Have you?" Tavington snarled.

"No, Sir, I have not forgotten about it. You told me to be brave," Judith quavered.

"Bloody right, Madam. And you'd be well advised to quickly prove some of that self-assurance you had shown at the farm. Or should I assume I was so much mistaken in you? You may not be aware of it, but in fact, you are the first Colonial who seems to have quite a bit of those widely known guts and much appreciated values in your way."

"Yeah? Is that so? I may have been daring then, but where has it got me now?" Judith's fright turned into scorn, "I can do well without a meaningless good-for-nothing distinction like that. Sarah's dead and I..." Judith lowered her head again.

A number of thoughts rushed through her head when she thought of what could be said about her person. She had failed to rescue Sarah. Not only had she been disgraced but also had she sinned. She had lost her honor along with her clothing. Judith couldn't bring herself to actually put any of it in words.

"You are still alive," Colonel Tavington finished the sentences for her with a dash of sarcasm as if he could read her mind. Judith felt almost ashamed that he of all the people was the one who pointed that positive aspect out to her. "You see", Tavington went on lecturing her, "it's never been in your power to save your friend's life. Still, your attempt to do so was a bold and impressive act.

When I saw you defending your friend you appeared like a lioness protecting her cub. I saw unafraid resoluteness in your eyes. A feature that appeals to me very much. I thought I'd finally met some of the spirit of the new world. That, in the first place, is why you've found my favor." Tavington paused for a short moment before he continued in a very low voice that forced Judith to listen to him attentively, "It's the best life assurance you can get. Don't forfeit it."

Judith couldn't escape the insistent stare he cast on her. She looked into his pitiless eyes and felt a shiver running down her spine when she realized the appalling truth of his words. She felt so very dependent on Tavington's mercy that she feared even the Almighty might possibly have no longer a say in the matter of her imminent fate.

Tavington suddenly ended their tense closeness as he stepped back to give her a quick examination. Then he cocked his eye at her and said, "Alas, what do I have to see now?" In the manner of a trader who haggles for the ware of his interest he gestured at her, meaning to point out the flaws that threaten to foil the deal.

"Take a look at yourself. You're not exactly looking brave when standing there with sagging shoulders, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Honestly, Madam, with your current behavior you tend to fall from my graces. Where has your confidence gone? Do yourself a favor and abandon that prudish pose which makes you look as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth. Stick to your good qualities!"

"It is easy for you to talk, Sir. You may have no problem of keeping confidence and composure. You're correctly dressed while I am...," Judith paused in embarrassment. Taking a look at herself was not exactly a source of new courage. She hated to admit how very right he was. She had pressed her thighs so hard together that she came to stand knock-kneed. With only her shoes on she didn't radiate any gracefulness. Even to herself she truly appeared like a doltish yokel. Still, she could not bring herself to freely expose her bare body to him. All she managed to do was to remain standing the way she was and bashfully completing her sentence with a feebly whispered, " …not."

Tavington laughed out.

"That is because I know how to correctly behave. As you make your bed you must lie on it. Had you not started to scrap with me you clothes would not need to fall in rags from you now." Tavington cast a wicked smile to Judith. "Even though I have to say, by and large, it leaves you in a shape which is much to my delight."

Scandalized at the incredible impudence with which Tavington distorted the facts, Judith saw him gloating over her inconvenience. Defiance was getting the better of her when she snapped at him, "Naturally! So that was the ulterior motive of separating me from the camp?"

"No," Tavington rejected her suspicion, "it is just a nice side effect."

The broad grin on his face clearly proved that Colonel Tavington didn't go to much trouble to feign innocence, though.

"A side effect?" Judith could not simply shrug her condition off as _a nice side effect_, "Of what?" she wanted to know.

"Of my responsibility," Tavington answered with greatest matter-of-factness.

"Responsibility? Of course! How could I only not come to think of it?" Judith did a little sneering of her own. It was the lamest excuse she'd ever heard. "Don't make me laugh! Please, Sir, at least you might spare me such cant."

"That's no cant. _That_ is the ulterior motive why we went here."

"Please, you need not feel responsible for me, Sir. Just leave me alone!"

"Oh, I do not feel responsible for _you_, Madam. I feel responsible for my men," Tavington explained quite seriously.

Judith didn't know what to think. His explanation sounded like complete nonsense to her, but Tavington didn't seem to be joking.

When he noticed the confusion and disbelief in her features he saw need to enlighten her on a few essentials. "Tell me, Madam, did you know that the Green Dragoons enjoy the reputation of being the finest light cavalry in the world?" he asked not without pride in his voice.

"Fine? Is that of the same meaning as lethal to you?" Judith attempted to dampen his smugness.

"Only for those who think they can defy us," Tavington stated and watched her closely. Judith was alarmed by his forthwith reaction to her slightly obstinate remark.

"However," Tavington went on, "I see, at least you are aware of the great efficiency of our fighting force. Now, why, you may wonder, is that so?" For a small moment he looked at her inquiringly. Then, without actually giving her a chance to answer, he continued, "No idea, Madam? Then let me prompt you:

Among others it is for the simple but important fact that we follow orders. No less and no more. We do not question them, we carry them out, determined and unfailing.

To do so it requires a clear head that is not to be confused; not by reasoning nor by wishful thinking either. The success of our missions is mainly based on the unrestricted ability of each Dragoon to fully concentrate on the job however dangerous and demanding the task.

And as their superior officer it is my responsibility to make sure that nothing will detract their attention while they're on duty. Needless to say that a naked woman is certainly one of those things, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm not a thing, Sir!" Judith flung out the words.

"Then use your brain and tell me, what do you think would happen if they saw you like this? It would derange their thoughts to no end. And that goes especially for your dear friend Captain Wilkins. He was in the gravest danger to forget about his rank and duty. I simply had to send him away for a while to cool down his agitated mind.

As for the others, I was not joking when I said they wouldn't mind watching you at work. What do you think would happen if they gave free reign to their desires?

It would sow the seeds of discord among them. Be assured, they would fight each other for the chance to lay hand on you. It would be a riot!

If they should ever get into a wrangling because of your person, it will not only spread discord over them for the moment, but it will impair their solidarity to one another permanently. A troop without unity is an easy target for the enemy. And this is what we cannot have! Do you understand now that it's only for your and their best, that we have gone here?"

Judith could not deny that his line of reasoning was perfectly convincing, downright alarming. "And what about you?" she drew the spotlight on him. To her taste he came off much too well with his arguments. "Does it not lead your thoughts astray when you feast your eyes on me?"

"That's something else. I'm not my men. I shall know to rule myself."

"Oh really? Last time you saw me that way you got pretty much out of control. Or is it part of your plan to take me another time?"

"I've never been out of control, Madam. For if I had been so, you wouldn't be able to stand and talk to me", Tavington set her right. "And no, I won't lay hand on you here. Perish the thought! I'm not going to become the laughing stock of the camp. Even more than for your person, I shall know to avoid that they will ever see me in such a delicate situation."

On account of the imagination that a hidden pair of eyes might watch her as well, another shiver of discomfort surged through her body. "Does that mean, you suspect them to spy on us?" Judith conjectured anxiously.

"Intrude in my privacy? No, they would not dare", Tavington declared quite self-assured. "Still, it is better to be safe than sorry. You never know how luck would have it and I'm not taking the risk of losing the respect of my men by an unfortunate accident. And now…", his voice turned eerily sober, "…Drop that laughable disguise!"

There was not the shadow of a doubt that their conversation had just ended. Their little discourse about responsibility had diverted Judith from her condition for a moment. Now she realized that it had only been a deferment of the inevitable.

Tavington brought Judith back to the unpleasant reality of her condition when he reached out his black-gloved hand for her. It was as if a charcoal burner put his big rough paw sooty from work on a neat fragile cup of white china. Seeing no escape from his grip, Judith tried to tell herself that his previous touches had not been all bad. To no avail. When she felt the cold smooth touch of leather against her skin she knew that this time it wouldn't rouse any sensuality. It merely was a degrading act in which the colonel displayed his power on her. Tavington had put his fingers on her forearm that barred her breasts.

"Do you ever learn from failure?" He commented disapprovingly on her non-cooperation, which lay in the plain fact that she still kept her breasts under cover. "I had thought you would have found that resistance is futile."

With that Tavington put some pressure on her right forearm. As Judith had neither the strength nor the courage to object, it didn't take him the slightest trouble to push it down.

Tavington took his time. Slowly he guided her arm down. Judith's gaze followed the lost shield and she blushed due to her indecent exposure. Being no longer under her control, her nipples seemed to peek saucily at their liberator. Finally her right hand fell on her left one and Tavington ceased the pressure for an instant. Judith spoke a fast and fervent prayer that he would leave it at that. Of course, her hope was thwarted in the very next second as Tavington, a devilish gleam in his eyes, continued on to push her hand further aside and only stopped when it had come to rest next to her hip, miles away from the place where she was craving for it.

Judith closed her eyes in shameful despair. She could easily tell what this would mean. She was supposed to remove her left hand in the same way. Judith tried hard but once again she failed to comply. Fearfully she looked at him again and found him scowling at her with impatience. Judith still didn't move. Only when she felt Tavington tapping two times curtly against the back of her left hand, she finally took her hand away.

The fact that he had seen her already this way could not lessen her feelings of profound shame. It only filled her with new indignity.

Judith just stood there, motionless, naked, humiliated.

She felt like a piece of cattle on the market while Tavington sized her up closely with undisguised, even increasing pleasure.

A painful silence had fallen between them that didn't make it any easier for Judith to bear his scrutiny. After a while Tavington seemed to have seen enough of her front, though. In a small circle and with a provokingly slow pace, he stepped around her intending to muster her from every possible angle.

Her breath grew faster and faster with anxiety. Since she could not simply vanish into thin air, Judith needed another refuge. Without really meaning to she recalled the sinfully pleasurable moments of their time by twos. It was as if a part of her tried to make herself enjoy his undivided attention.

Not for long. Taken aback as she realized her own depraved notion, Judith blushed to an even darker shade of red. She clenched her fists so hard that the skin over her knuckles shone white while her nails painfully dug into her palms. Suddenly she felt the leather touch of his gloves near her neck. A scream choked in her throat as she froze with horror.

Tavington snickered at her apparent distress.

"You're quite lovely when you're struggling for composure", he teased stroking her hair aside and shifting it forward over her shoulder .

Judith wanted to twist round to punch and kick at him or try her luck and flee into the woods or just kneel down and adjure him to stop or anything else that would put an end to this act of degradation. Yet she knew none of them were a good idea. The only practicable way for her to go, was to play along with him. He wanted her to prove intrepid. Judith understood that he took his pleasure in playing such perverse games on her. But she was not going to lose. She wouldn't let him see her distress. Judith valiantly remained standing.

"Very well, my dear," Tavington praised her after he had finished his examination. "Why don't you just stand at ease? You see, there's absolutely nothing you would need to feel ashamed for or hide from me", he revealed his satisfaction at the inspection of her body. "Still, something should be done about those cuts. Some have been bleeding. That usually makes it look worse than it is. I would recommend to clean them so that we can see how serious they really are and tend them if necessary", he went on in an almost casual tone.

That was too much to take for her.

"How very attentive of you, Sir, Thank you for nothing!" Judith retorted not caring that her voice sounded all but snotty. She was disgusted with that outrageous arrogance of him. "Without you there wouldn't be any cuts adorning my back and no care was necessary at all." she snapped at Tavington with newly gained rebelliousness.

Not long ago he had asked her for more self-confidence. All right, then he should have it that way. He'd got her infuriated enough that she would not longer refrain from giving him a piece of her mind. "Next time you tell me to consider myself lucky that you are so very versed with corporal punishment. Is it part of the education in the army? Do they teach you how to measure out the right degree of violence? Do they show you how to torture innocent people without leaving lasting marks behind that may betray you?"

Judith had only just finished her sentence, when a hard smack hit her face. Instantly she felt a burning pain on her cheek. A second later the burning was replaced by a stabbing ache. Colonel Tavington had grabbed her face and squeezed it. His palm pressed relentlessly against the stinging cheek, his thumb dug into the other one without care or concern.

"Guard your tongue, Madam", Tavington hissed at her, flashes of fury shooting from his eyes. "You are merely lucky that your injuries aren't worse. There's no such training going on in His Majesty's army. What a defamatory allegation! Do you realize that I could have you hanged for this!"

The iron grip of his hand forced her head so high that he made her stand on tiptoes. Judith reached for his wrist to get some hold. She felt like an ermine that was about to be skinned out under the merciless gaze of the furrier.

"When I asked you to stop your maudlin I didn't mean to have it replaced by effrontery. I will not deny that I'm nothing loath to the lure of a sassy woman. At times. But I warn you, don't go too far. You'd better think twice before taking disrespect for valor for I will not have any backtalk from you. In your own interest, make sure that you need not bitterly regret another thoughtless remark. It would definitely be the better policy for you not to insult me or the sovereign I serve!"

Being done lecturing her, Tavington gave her face such a harsh push that Judith tottered back. Judith buried her face in her hands attempting to wipe away the pains along with her tears that had uncontrollably poured from her eyes.

Judith felt a strong impulse to just fall down at his feet and beg forgiveness for her words.

But had he not forbidden her to beg? It dawned on her how intricate it might become to hold her ground, always in danger of crossing an invisible border.

Total submission was no option and her attempt to display the requested self-assurance had resulted in a smack to her face. He wanted her to be unafraid and straightforward, but there was quite obviously a degree of pertness he wouldn't be willing to accept. It was a brinkmanship, every step could be a step too far.

Playing his game was going to be a lot more difficult than she had imagined.

Judith saw him still blazing with anger. Under the prevailing conditions, Judith regarded a sign of regret indicated.

"I apologize for having been insolent, Sir", she said humbly. Not reckoning with the possibility that she could ever do anything right enough for him, Judith prepared for another blow or lecture.

"Yes my dear, apologize. The very least you ought to do", he replied straight-faced.

She peeped at him uncertainly. If there was more for her to do, she wasn't aware of it and it only heightened her apprehension.

Without a further word, Tavington swiftly leaned down to pick up her dress. He made short work of ripping a piece from it. Although intimidated by this forceful act, which displayed clearly his still present aggression, Judith saw her chances to ever get properly reattired dwindling and frowned.

"So what?" he shrugged off her silent accusation. "You'll need to botch it together anyway. And now, Madam, get your unlawfully sweet colonial bum into gear and start moving!" he instructed her rudely.

Judith understood she was supposed to go to the bank of the creek. She thought it best not to try his patience again and obliged. But soon she found out that to comply with his orders was not easy. Her knees were so shaky that she doubted to make it all the way down without stumbling.

She hated to be exposed to his view. All the more as he had previously let her know what a silly figure she would cut in the buff when coyness joined her. Maybe it was helpful not to support him in thinking of her as a complete dimwit. His remark that butter wouldn't melt in her mouth still rankled in her mind. She didn't want to stand for that.

Judith adopted an upright bearing. She held her head up high and straightened her body. With squared shoulders she walked past him. It was no overdrawn pride, it was just do demonstrate she still possessed some self-respect.

"Very nice, that's much more like it!" Tavington applauded. "Why not at once?" Then he assumed an air of gentlemanliness and even lightly bowed to her, "Please, after you, Madam."

When they arrived on the bank, Judith followed Tavington's instructions obediently.

He had stripped off his gloves and treated her in an unexpectedly considerate way when he cleaned her wounds. Nonetheless, Judith bit her lips and sharply inhaled when the cold water came in contact with her cuts.

"Have you ever been spanked before?" Tavington asked sneeringly. Her discomfort had not remained hidden to him.

"No, Sir. Never!" Judith stated defiantly. "No one has ever seen fit to seize such draconic correctional measures."

"Yes, that's what I thought. A well-bred woman would have known her place and had wisely kept out of other people's business.

How very unfortunate for you to have missed a proper education on that matter. Now you will have to experience that this will hurt for a while. It should teach you." Tavington wrung the piece of cloth and swabbed her sores for a last time. "However, you may rest assured, that it won't leave much harm behind."

Then he gathered her hair in a loose bun.

"Hold them", he ordered her and Judith raised her arms to hold her hair up high fixing it with her hands that no strand would fall on her back.

Being seated in such an unintended enticing shape, an unpleasant thought occurred to her. Judith let her gaze wander up and down the creek. To someone who happened to watch the pair of them from a distance it must look like she was willingly displaying her charms. She thought of James. Where might he have gone to? He was ordered to guard the camp. What if he could see her like this? What would he think of her? Would she ever have the chance to explain? She wished Tavington would finish his work soon.

There! Out of the corner of her eyes she believed to have seen something in the brushwood, a movement that didn't belong there. Judith peered into the coppice further down the creek. And even though she saw nothing but lightly swinging branches of sap-green, she felt like someone was observing her. She recalled Tavington's words. His men would not dare to spy after them. Yet she could only take little comfort from that. What if someone else could see her?

Again Judith searched the surrounding creek downwards attentively.

She couldn't make out anything suspicious. No red coat amongst the branches and bushes. Certainly the colonel was right. At least a small blessing.

Meanwhile Tavington had pulled a small tin out of his pocket. With two fingers he dipped into the herbal scented liniment to take a small amount out. When he turned to Judith again, he couldn't help but stopping in his motion.

He had to confess that she had something in her way that infatuated him more than it should have. The sight of her aroused him in a highly disconcerting way. Even the evident traces of her whipping could not impair the overwhelming appeal of her alluring physique. She looked like a stranded mermaid who wistfully gazed on the water from where she had emerged, longing to return, not knowing how.

'_Hold back! Pull yourself together. Not now, William'_, Tavington admonished himself to practice restraint. _'There will be plenty of time for this. Later.'_

He banished the thought from his mind and began to rub some salve on her wounds.

While the fabric and the water had caused a fiery ache on Judith, the greasy substance didn't hurt a bit. Her surprise at the fact that for once his treatment of her didn't cause any pain drew the curious question from her, "What sort of ointment is it, Sir?"

"Who cares?" Tavington shrugged his shoulders, "It works on the horse, it will work on you."

While the ointment had spared her, his words had not: Judith felt severely hurt.


	10. Wants

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 10 – Wants

"That's that", Tavington said when he was done tending her sores. "For the moment that's all I can do for you. To work with you now."

Judith was glad to finally get away from the bank. She still could not help feeling they weren't alone. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps it wasn't more than a figment of her imagination called forth by Tavington's mere mentioning that there was an off-chance of unwelcome witnesses.

"Are you really sure nobody followed us?" Judith was craving for some reassurance.

"I told you they would not dare", he gave back somewhat huffily. "But I'm pretty sure they will keep a curious eye on you once we rejoin them", Tavington scoffed at her. "Thus, you'd better see to it that your seams are without fail."

This he had not needed to tell her twice. Judith nodded obediently and headed for her sewing basket. She picked it up assiduously and also reached for her dress. Not far, only a few feet away lay the red uniform jacket, which Tavington had flung down during his fit of rage. Judith reached out her hand but then hesitated. A shy gaze wandered in the colonel's direction. The last thing she had in mind was to rouse his anger anew.

"Sir?" Judith addressed him politely. "Do I have permission to wear the coat while sewing? Please."

"So you do have manners then?" Tavington answered with mock surprise about her request for his consent. "Very well, Madam. Just do as you please."

"Thank you, Sir!" Judith didn't care about his derision; she was just glad that he had agreed. Without further delay she slipped into the coat and began her work of which she refused to believe to ever bring it to a satisfactory result.

She knew perfectly well that an awful lot of damage had been done to her dress and that she was lucky if she managed to mend at least the worst of it.

Hectically, she reached for yarn and needle. Soon Judith found that her knees were not the only shaky parts of her body. In several attempts she failed to thread the sewing cotton.

"I can't say that I am very familiar with needlework and the like, but I could imagine that this fidgetiness you're currently displaying isn't very helpful." Tavington had returned from the bank and looked down on her.

"It is even less helpful if you don't stop pestering", Judith mumbled only little pleased with his approach.

"Pardon? What did you just say?" Tavington drew even nearer leaning to her in an offensive way.

"Nothing, Sir. I said nothing." Judith uttered subdued.

"Not so easy to keep one's tongue in check, is it?" he kept on badgering her.

'_Are you speaking from experiences?'_ it shot through her head in a short-lived fit of defiance. But Judith was wise enough to keep that thought to herself. Instead she softly murmured, "Don't worry, I'm getting better at this."

Truth to be told, Judith felt like crying. She let sink her hand in her lap and deeply inhaled a few times to calm herself down.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk", Tavington shook his head. "No good idea", he commented on her break. "You see, even though it suits you quite well, I'm sure Bordon wants his jacket back before nightfall. You better keep going!"

Judith saw the gravity in Tavington's rather offhand remark. She needed to get herself organized. Blind zeal wouldn't bring her anywhere. Under normal circumstances Judith would never have rashly tackled a work. If she could bring herself to regard it as a perfectly routine job it would probably help to make up a well structured list of points that needed to be done to master the task.

She put the needle aside and examined the dress through the eye of a practised tailor. An accurate check on the working material was always the first step of every proper work.

Alas, when she had finished her inspection she had actually less reason to feel at ease.

Judith had been taught to responsibly household with resources in general and not to carelessly squander them. Still, sometimes it was better to part from things.

Never would she forget the incident when she had learned that lesson. She remembered the day she had lost her first self stitched apron. It had been a time-consuming piece of work. Many different sewing techniques had been worked in so that the apron would serve as a pattern for later occasions. It had taken her hours upon hours to finish this needlework. In the end it had paid to work with accuracy and precision, though, for the apron had become a masterpiece of a first work.

Regrettably to say, only weeks later it had suffered a sad accident. There had been a strong wind and the apron had been torn off the clothing line, blown away to the near garden where it had got unluckily entangled to a bean-pole. When Judith had got it back in her hands again, it was all but ripped and torn. Worst of all, she hadn't been allowed to mend it, even actually been told off to make a single attempt, because it wouldn't have resulted in anything useful.

Strictly speaking, her dress looked even worse. It was beyond repair and every stitch on it was a waste of time and yarn. Judith heaved a sigh.

Very well, this wasn't a sewing contest where they awarded extra points for the most beautiful frill work. It was more like darning socks that were only miraculously held together by their holes.

And however hopeless the matter seemed to be, it was certainly better to wear poorly mend rags than nothing at all. Judith simply couldn't afford to abandon the dress.

Despite the paltry encouragement of her first examination, Judith quickly gathered her thoughts and fixed a systematic order which she would work off in strict succession. She reached for thread and needle anew and this time she hit the eye of the needle at first take.

Tavington watched Judith succeeding in her second attempt. When he saw that his surveillance could no longer fluster her, he left her alone with her work. He turned away from her and looked for a seating. Soon he had found a place that lived up to his liking, so he sat down and leaned back against a tree trunk.

Now that he presented his profile to her, she would certainly feel less observed. Nonetheless, however absent minded he might appear to her she remained in his visual angle all the time. With a last swift side glance to Judith, who persistently avoided to look at him, he finally turned his gaze towards the creek looking at the low sun.

When this war was over he would start a new life in Ohio.

He had General Cornwallis' silent promise on that matter provided that he, Colonel William Tavington, would accomplish his part of the secret deal to capture that Ghost. He was quite positive that he would. It was only about a week ago that he had started to intensify his _tactics_. Sooner or later it would make people serve him the ghost on a silver plate, even though he somehow wished it would be sooner than later. For a moment Tavington made a wry face; all in all it was an annoying matter. He should have shot the father along with the son that day on that farm.

However, with the victory of the British, and there was no doubt about that, this spook would be over once for all. When all was said and done, he would advance to one of the first members of a new established aristocracy and rule over a landed property that was greater than anything his father had ever owned. On this prospect the colonel's mood lightened in no time.

Wrapped up in his yearning for a splendid future Tavington stretched his limbs. He raised his arms to cross them behind his head and let his imagination flow.

Before his mental eye he saw himself leading a luxurious life as wealthy landowner. If one could trust General Cornwallis' forecast, he might probably make a fortune by getting in on the reestablished commerce with England. Or perhaps he would get himself into breeding horses. Whatsoever, it didn't matter at the moment.

A mildly contemplative expression on his face, Tavington enjoyed his vision of a blessed future.

The sun had drawn close to the horizon and started to tint the blue sky in various shades. Tavington absorbed this gorgeous play of colors which also reflected on the water and dyed the surface of the brook from orange to pink. The creek seemed to consist of millions of diamonds that were shining and shimmering as if they wanted to compete with the iridescence of the evening sun.

Judith had no eye for the picturesque idyll as she was busy with her needlework. She had scrupulously followed her plan which provided to settle the most difficult and time-consuming parts at first. Laying no enhanced value on a neat design or masterly execution she had progressed fairly well in her work.

Now she could take advantage of the fact that the remaining threads-to-sew gave her less trouble to carry out so that she grew faster in her work towards the end.

Once in a while, Judith looked up from her work. She shyly glanced at Tavington and found an apparently good-humored relaxed colonel lost in a daydream.

Judith returned her gaze back to her work. Although she had mended most of the damage, it was not yet finished.

Not long and Judith couldn't resist to cast another glance in his direction. His relaxed bearing hadn't changed a bit.

Not realizing it, Judith smiled. An inexplicably weird and wonderful fascination for him had come over her. He wasn't a monster. He resembled a man at his leisure who had gone for a picnic in the green, enjoying every moment of calm and peace. She liked this sight of him.

She was engrossed, nay captivated by his charismatic strong male features. Never had she felt anything comparable whenever she had looked at James. Why, she wondered? Tavington had put her through hell on earth and yet he attracted her. He held something highly enigmatic in his view that she simply couldn't take her eyes off him.

He didn't appear cruel and dangerous anymore, still impressing and superior, but in a very engaging not to say tempting way.

She looked at him and he looked at her. Judith was way too mesmerized by his reciprocal gaze to actually notice. She felt a strong physical craving to place her lips to his.

"You know your stuff, don't you?" Tavington suddenly tore Judith out of her thoughts, well knowing what those might be. "You can sew a thread without even looking at it."

Judith started in surprise.

"Ouch!" Caught between wind and water with his unexpected address and the realization that she had shamelessly riveted her eyes on him, Judith had stitched her finger.

"Oh no, you can't", he commented on her mishap and smirked. "Tell me, Madam. How far have you got? Any chance that we'll be back in the camp with the last rays of sunshine?"

"Don't worry, Sir. I shall be ready soon", Judith hurried to say and lowered her head pretending that she needed to care about the rest of her work with utmost concentration.

"Ah, come on. I didn't mean to embarrass you. Even a blind man would see that you are as busy as a bee", he said in an almost conciliatory voice. A praise from the colonel increased Judith's discomfort to an unknown dimension. Strangely it made her feel even more insecure than his arrogance. Cautiously she looked up from her work and found him friendly smiling at her.

"What is then that made you ask how long it will take me to finish this? Are you afraid you might not find your way back in the dark?"

"By God, you'd truly be a credit to a swarm of bees. Just as sedulous as you are combative. Ready to strike back if need be. But be sure to put your sting aside for a while. There's no danger ahead. I was just wondering if your work might allow you to take the time for a little conversation to shorten my waiting time."

Judith was not precisely keen on having a cosy chat with the colonel. "You will take no refusal, I guess? So why taking the courtesy of asking my agreement? On what subject do you wish to talk?"

"Tell me, have you been born here on this continent?"

Judith froze, again he drew the view on a subject she usually cared to avoid. He couldn't possibly know about the ulterior meaning of which the matter had for her. Maybe he meant it as a catch question. Either way, she didn't feel any desire to discuss it with him. "Well, since I can't remember to have ever lived anywhere else, I should think so, yes."

"Then you are perhaps not aware of the astonishing exquisiteness of this country. Possibly you take the beauty of this land for granted, but I assure you this is not the case. Take a look, Madam, isn't it fascinating to watch this simple sunset? Even the colors seem to be of an outstanding brilliance, so much brighter and clearer compared to the scale of nature's colors in the old world.

This country leaves me in awe again and again. It's so incredibly rich in its flora and fauna than every other place I've ever seen. However, there's still a fancy variety of bizarre and wonderful forms of life to be discovered wherever you go. And although it seems this continent might burst at its seams with all its comeliness, it obviously never gets tired of bringing forth beauty upon beauty."

Judith had glued her eyes on his lips amazed and oddly entranced by his enthusiastic praises.

"You are beautiful." This last sentence was so tenderly whispered that Judith couldn't say for sure whether Tavington had really said it or if she had only been dreaming it up. "What is it that a woman like you sees in a man like Captain Wilkins? You're powerful, resolute, intelligent, you know to help yourself…"

"Was that a compliment, Colonel?" Judith couldn't help feeling flattered.

"Would you like me making compliments to you?" he softly replied with a counter-question.

In the remotest recess of her heart and soul something was crying "Yes!"

But reason made her wipe the stars from her eyes with a single bat of her eyelashes. Judith cleared her throat and harshly answered, "You can save yourself the trouble to dish out sweet nothings to me. Why would I ever get fond of a man who uses and abuses women just to his liking?"

"Perhaps because you cannot get fond of a man who can't satisfy you?" Tavington rode on unaffected.

Judith didn't know what to say and could not even blame him in case he took her silence for assent.

"Confound it!" Judith eventually pressed through gritted teeth. "Listen, Sir, since you appear to be so thrilled by this country's lovely nature, I will tell you that it is not always so nice as it seems." Judith paused as she shuddered at the thought. Often had she wondered whether the elements were hell- or heaven-sent. "You have no idea what life is like here. It's not that easy to…"

"Nonsense!" Tavington cut her short. "It _is_ that easy! The occasions are there, but you must seize them!"

"That's what it might seem to someone who just comes his way and sees the splendour of the moment. You may think this is a luxuriant garden where you can simply pluck the exquisite fruits for your own private pleasure. But on that point you are mistaken, Sir. Everything on earth is governed by the Lord himself. And if you keep taking things just when you feel like it, without any respect or understanding for their true purpose, you will stand there with empty hands by the time autumn arrives. You know, some things are not to be rushed." Her voice faltered as she thought of James and her continuously changing feelings towards him within the complicated circumstances of their relation to one another. "There are flowers that need their time to grow."

"And sometimes they fade in their bloom", Tavington retorted, getting perfectly well the point to whom Judith had referred with her last sentence.

"Then you are questioning the Law?" Judith quickly steered their conversation to another topic of which she hoped that would put him out of his startling eloquence.

He was not the man who seemed to trouble much about his salvation.

"No, Madam, far from it", Tavington replied placidly, though. "I find it utterly guiding.

You see, that is just the problem with you colonials. You pretend to have come here to make a new start. You want to break free from a dusty social system that cuts into your rights and wants. So much for your noble intentions. But let's face it, it wasn't the system that had reduced you to penury. It appears it's rather your do-little mentality that keeps you from achieving your aims. Instead of leaving the old world behind and facing the big challenge you don't know any better than to live in poverty and meagreness. Don't blame it on the Lord! Wasn't it He who encouraged us to subject his Creation to ourselves.

This land is so full of opportunities and prospects that it angers me when I see all the frugality and deficiency you colonials seem to content yourselves with. One should think those who have once experienced scarcity would know better than to suffer want at a set table. Why don't you take your chances?"

"Why don't we take our chances? Let me see." Judith knitted her brow as if she needed to think hard. "Well, if I remember it right there is a mean and greedy tyrant who keeps us from doing so as he never gets tired to impose taxes on us whenever he pleases. Next time he makes us pay for the air we breathe."

"If _I_ remember it right, you don't pay those taxes", Tavington remarked pointedly.

Judith gave him a withering look. Then she saw that he would never leave her the last word in this matter and swallowed every further remark. She turned her attention back on the work on her lap and fell silent.

"Very well, maybe you're right, Madam, and it is better not to waste time talking", he gave in. "For all the beauty of the nature, I have no desire to become an easy prey for roving rebels. Better we are back in the camp as soon as possible."

Judith started at this words. She hated to admit that she felt not exactly safe at the prospect that militia might be around.


	11. Escape of a Dragonfly

**A/N: There's the devil in the detail this time. I was taking up on a scene that I found in the book where Tavington chases after some insects. In the German edition they are speaking of 'Libellen' – dragonflies. And I always wondered, how the hell does he do it, but liked the idea very much. I mean not that there is anything Colonel Tavington might not be able to do, is there? Now that an extended 'Patriot' movie version is on the market, I had to see that he chases fireflies. Well, by the time of my discovery the chapter was done and I'm in a fine quandary now.**

**So, if you, dear gentle reader, should share my view that catching dragonflies with ones hands is rather difficult to impossible, please, remember that we are moving on the grounds of a parallel existing universe, called fanfiction, and I ask you to give me some credits for having been fangirlish enough to provided him with such outstanding ability. Thank you.**

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 11 – Escape of a Dragonfly

"What's wrong, Madam?" Tavington demanded to know when he observed that Judith had so suddenly changed colors. She appeared to be truly scared of something. He followed her bewildered gaze checking the surrounding. "Have you spotted Lucifer himself in the brushwood or what is it that makes you… Hang on!" Tavington exclaimed as it dawned on him why Judith had turned pale with terror. "Can it be? You are not possibly afraid of the militia, are you?"

Judith clutched tightly at the fabric in her hand. Tavington knew he had hit the mark. He shook his head and chuckled at her obvious trepidation.

"Goodness! Madam! That's it? You fear them?" It was barely credible that she was apparently only so little in favor of the men and their leader who in general had become very popular among the local population. Tavington sneered. "How very unfortunate for you. As matters stand, they are the only ones who might come to your rescue."

That was how it seemed. But Judith had massive doubts about it.

It was certainly no fun to be with the Dragoons. But at least they appeared to be more or less civilized people. According to Tavington they were organized in a smooth working hierarchy and each of them was used to strictly follow the orders of their superior. And while Judith truly wished the Green Dragoons would have been a little less efficient in the execution of their order when they destroyed Sarah's home, she was utterly grateful for their implicit obedience in the matter of her own predicament.

Judith doubted that the same thing could be said about the colonial militia. Not all of the men who had gathered around the Ghost were as sincere and right-minded as Sarah's husband for instance. Some of the men could only be described as rather unsavory rabble and Judith found it hard to imagine that any of them would have had the decorum to offer her a coat like Captain Bordon had done. Would Benjamin Martin's influence on those men be strong enough to keep them back in case they fancied to lay hand on her?

Would he even care? Judith recalled the rumors about Benjamin Martin's past. Usually she didn't give much credence to gossip, but in this very case the strange offshoots of stories that had spread on the quiet had been preying on her mind to the extent that she had bothered to conduct further research. When she had finally got reliable firsthand information of how this man had treated his enemies during the French Indian War, Judith was terrified to see that the gossip was actually understated. From then on she had felt her flesh creep whenever it had been unavoidable to meet with him.

Considering the rumors that were none, Benjamin Martin was in no way inferior to Tavington as far as ruthlessness and cruelty were concerned. Regarding it from that point of view his nimbus as the heroic leader of the militia appeared to be rather tarnished and it needed not much explanation why he had come to recruit men of their sort.

They were not exactly trustworthy people and it left one wondering what they might do for a living. Theft and trickery were presumably no unknown businesses to them and most people who supported the rebels would have given them a wide berth in times of peace. God knew what other misdeeds those shady fellows might be guilty of. Now, they did fight for the cause but in the first line they fought for themselves, despoiling the vanquished. If war hadn't forged them together, they might have victimized the men who now fought alongside them.

Judith was not sure if they would bother much about her health and safety, in case they attacked the Dragoons right now.

"Do you have good reason to suppose they might turn up with nightfall?" she asked with undeniable dread in her voice.

Tavington was intrigued to see the profound distrust of her supposed saviors in her facial expression. His sneer grew even bigger as he took his pleasure in keeping Judith on tenterhooks for his answer. After an unnervingly long delay he finally said, "No. It's not very likely to happen."

When Tavington observed that Judith was just about to breathe again, he decided to extend her state of uneasiness for a while and mentioned with marked casualness, "Since we paid the plantation of Martin's sister-in-law a visit, it has fallen rather silent about him and his followers. Our warning has literally hit home! To fire the plantation was obviously the fitting lesson - a language that a man of his kind does understand."

„Oh my God!" Aghast, Judith gaped at him.

Surely, she had witnessed Sarah's cottage falling a victim to the flames. Yet the idea of a burning manor was another thing. Almost impossible to imagine that the

Drakespar Estate had suffered the same fate as Sarah's modest home. Manor-houses like Charlotte Selton's simply didn't go up in flames. It was a safe and solid building compared to the simple small cottage, which Sarah had dwelled in.

Of course, it was rather silly to assume that a manor was resistant to fire. Judith wondered what on earth she was believing? That splendor and tallness would make a building fire-proof? Certainly not. Once again she was terrified to see what this man was capable of and asked in disbelief, "You… burned the manor-house?"

"Along with the barns and stables", Tavington confirmed with frightening calm and self content. He had risen to his feet and it was difficult to say whether it was random or purpose that he rubbed his hands to clean the dirt off them.

Judith looked in his face which was appallingly bare of any regret and another thought scared her to death. "What about the children?"

„Lo and behold! You knew they had been there?" Tavington concluded effortlessly, refusing to answer her question. "Very interesting!"

Too late, Judith realized that Tavington hadn't mentioned the children before. It dawned on her that she had said more than she should have.

„It appears that it was far wiser than I thought to keep you alive for a while", he congratulated himself on this move. "Tell me, Madam, what else do you know about Benjamin Martin and his wonts?"

"Nothing, Sir. I never associated with the Martin's", Judith replied in accordance to the truth.

"Where else could they take refuge to now that their last place of retreat has gone up in smoke?" Tavington proceeded unswervingly in his interrogation. "You knew where he had hidden his children", he stated, "Perhaps you happen to know where he and his children do hide now?"

"No. I don't know where they are. I did not even know they had to flee…"

In a fit of annoyed impatience, Tavington grabbed at her collar. Every friendliness had vanished form his face and in its stead his predaceous nature had fully returned. "I warn you, don't you lie to me!"

"I'm not lying, Sir!" Judith shouted hysterically at him. "I swear, I don't know where they are!" Luckily, she didn't know. She was not sure if she wouldn't have told him, if she had had any idea, just to save herself. Judith hardly dared to breathe for she feared every wrong movement could be a death-warrant.

Tavington saw the blank terror in her features and regarded the truth of her words as proven. Remembering what had the basically proven to be a big failure at Charlotte Selton's plantation, he could do worse than drop this subject.

He released her, rearranging the collar correctly. Then he raised his index finger and warned, "Be sure not to play any tricks on me, Madam. For the moment we'll leave it at this."

Briskly straightening up, Tavington withdrew from her. He needed some distance and so he turned his steps towards the creek.

What a drag! He had not meant to be rude to her, just a bit teasing. He somehow had enjoyed their bantering so far. But he could not bear to be duped, especially not in the case of Benjamin Martin. The matter was just too serious. He had had to make this clear to her.

The Devil! That goddamned Ghost kept getting in his way everywhere. The importunate encroachment of this man turned out not to be confined to military actions but to become more far-reaching than Tavington had ever imagined.

What was going wrong?

William Tavington knew when a woman had begun to take a liking for him, even though it was only just barely known to herself. And never would he permit that Benjamin Martin of all the people would prevent the two of them from getting closer to one another. Instead of letting that deuced Ghost putting him off further, he should take advantage of Judith's resentment for the head of the rebels and make himself appear in a more pleasant light.

They had not had the best start of an acquaintance –that much was true. So if he wanted to prepossess her in his favor, it wasn't helpful to unduly intimidate or distress her. Perhaps he should do her a kindness.

Judith had valiantly suffered the Colonel's impetuous reproof and was just glad when he had let off of her again. She didn't mind him retreating to the bank, not at all. With all his quickly altering moods, the Colonel was so unpredictable a man that Judith doubted she would ever get along with him. She wished there would be miles between them.

Instead she was to observe another example of his volatile temper. In an incredibly short time Tavington seemed to have shrugged off his peeve. Judith could hardly believe her eyes when she saw him, a grown-up man, diverting himself with a rather boyish pastime. He had started to chase after some dragonflies.

To what point and purpose, she wondered and slightly shook her head. He could not earnestly reckon on ever getting hold of one of them, could he? She knew they were very nimble and able to perform flight maneuvers which sought their peer.

Yet, to her big surprise it didn't take long and he had caught even several of them, which after a short examination he let go off again as if they had failed muster.

Finally he got hold of one that obviously found his liking. With a satisfied smile, he returned to Judith. When she saw him drawing closer with the odd catch in his hand, she finally saw fit why people also called them 'Devil's Darning needle'.

Tavington sat down right next to Judith and carefully presented the vehemently struggling animal to her.

"Fascinating creatures, aren't they?"

"It's a dragonfly", Judith explained matter-of-factly and gave him to understand that she was not overly impressed.

Inwardly she was highly impressed, though. Never had she seen anybody able to catch a dragonfly with their hands so easily. What man was this who could pick them out of the air? This exceptional ability left her in awe of him.

"I've seen them often before", Judith made clear to him, though, that he had shown nothing new to her. "But I don't see what should be so extraordinary about them."

"Have you ever given them a closer look? This one here is a fine specimen. So beautiful. A fairylike creature with limpid wings. And just look at its brightly shimmering color! Simply amazing." Tavington spoke in such a soft voice that even the dragonfly seemed to be set at ease. "In a way they remind me of you."

"Of me? The only similarity I can see is that you take pleasure in keeping us captive." This time, Judith would not allow him to lull her with his lip services.

"There's so much more you have in common: Your delicate svelte shapes, a bewitching gracefulness in every motion. Beings of an eye-catching comeliness, alert and slick, but wild and refractory when it comes to struggle for freedom. Those parallels are absolutely striking, wouldn't you say?"

"It's enough to make me sick!" Judith spat at him with disgust. "You regard those little insects more valuable than a human being."

"How do you come to that?" Tavington puckered his brow. "I don't know what you mean."

"That's but obvious."

"Help me?" Tavington encouraged her to speak her mind as he could not follow her thoughts.

For the short moment of one breath, Judith rolled her eyes behind closed lids and then began to explain, "Well, Sir, while you do allow the dragonflies to fly away as they seize the very first opportunity to regain their freedom with the mere opening of your hand, I am still forced to stay with you."

Tavington scowled. Insulted by her ingratitude, he felt his blood boiling. When would that woman finally understand that he had treated her already with more regard than the situation actually allowed? She was truly stubborn and bristly. He was trying to be nice to her and she constantly gave him the cold shoulder. Could she not see or did she not want to see that it was better to have him for a friend than for an enemy? He was offering her a truce. But instead of accepting she kept putting him out of temper. She could play those pranks with James Wilkins but certainly not with him.

"Now you disappoint me, Madam. You've not yet taken the point. You envy that dragonfly? Look…" He held his hand with the trapped insect right in front of Judith's face. "Fly away you say? Regain its freedom you say?" Tavington repeated her words, clearly pronouncing them. He pursed his lips as if he contemplated the possible outcome of a scientific experiment.

Judith looked at the delicate body of the insect and expected it to be airborne the very moment he would loosen his grip.

All of sudden Tavington mashed it before her eyes.

Judith had started with horror at the cracking noise that followed the quick unexpected contraction of his hand. Slowly he opened his fist again. The

former elaborate insect had turned into a crumpled something. Greenish-blue fluid was running down from Tavington's palm to his wrist.

"That is what will happen should you ever try to escape me. Understand?" Tavington set her aright frostily. "Consider yourself lucky that you are allowed to stay with us."

Still trembling at the display of brutality, Judith had no doubt that he would crush her without blinking if only she gave him the slightest provocation. She wondered what to do? He had just demonstrated to her that running away was no alternative. As matters stood, attack was probably the better defense.

„You think you scare me? No, Sir, nothing of that kind. I pity you. What was the bravery in that act? It is not so courageous as you may think to destroy a being which is so hopelessly inferior to you. Do you believe a grown woman would be impressed by a spoilt boy pulling the wings off flies? Why should I be glad to keep the company of a man who harms what he likes? Have you not only just now praised this poor little animal to the skies. Why do you have to destroy what you love?"

Judith looked him straight in the eyes and he equally held her stare.

"And what about you, Madam?" Tavington queried. "You think yourself quite smart, don't you? You think you can look inside my head. You think you've found out the riddle about the man I am? You have no idea. What I once loved, has destroyed me!" he said bitterly. "You know nothing of me!" With that he jumped to his feet and withdrew from her once more.

A painfully clear memory had flashed through Tavington's mind at her words that had pierced him to his core like a well-aimed rapier. How did she dare to say a thing like that? She didn't know about his past, she didn't know about his father and all the misery he had caused for his family. His late father had destroyed it all.

A stabbing pain in his heart, he remembered his mother, the only person who had ever been really dear to him. Being a widow of an impoverished and shunned member of the lower aristocracy wasn't easy to endure.

When Tavington had left England there had been no way to care for her in an appropriate way. He had turned his back on England and on an angry mob of debtors. He had heard the gossip that had spread about him, that he was no better than his old man, leaving his mother along with his debts. The rumors had wounded him and he had never stopped feeling bound to do her justice one day. After all she had had to suffer under the tyranny of his father, now she had deserved a carefree eve of life.

Once he had established himself in this new world, he wouldn't hesitate to send for her to live in his care on this continent. Finally he would be the son for her she had so desperately wished for. He would not be like his father.

'_I'm not like you, Garrick Tavington. I will never tread in your steps. Ever!'_ Tavington inaudibly repeated this vow to himself for the umpteenth time.

He would restore all the esteem and respect to the name of his family that his father had once squandered.

Maybe it was a mere coincidence that he looked straight to the east into the darkening sky in the direction of his fatherland. A strange bitter-sweet melancholy seemed to have taken hold of him. Judith had intended to give him a blow that would hurt him; it appeared that she had been quite successful and now she found that she felt sorry for it. He looked so vulnerable standing there alone.

No one was born bad in this world. So what was it that had turned him in that cold, cruel man as whom she had got to know him so far? What or who had forged this fearful weird symmetry of mind? Against her will, Judith began to search for excuses that might explain his heartless way of acting.

Maybe his love had once remained unrequited. Maybe he had a wife who loved another. Or had she died? Maybe Tavington had taken his leave in England and decided to join the army in order to forget his old life. Was his cruelty and brutality just his way to hide a broken heart?

It reminded her of James. She had never told him about her true feelings for him and now he had joined the army. To forget her? Was he through with her? She thought of the letters and was afraid he could turn away from her completely now only to spare him the disgrace. What would he do to deal with her stupid constant rejections? Would he ever turn as violent as his superior? And if so, would it be her fault then? She felt that she needed to talk to him. She wished he could have been around. She needed clarity about this. She wanted to be back at the camp.


	12. Bread and Jam

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 12 – Bread and Jam

Tavington had not spoken one further word, which made them return to the encampment in frosty silence.

Judith was now wearing the botch that once had been her dress. She had hardly been able to properly finish her needlework. There had been no easy way to mend the tears in the fabric by a simple seam without any patches and so most of the flaws were only poorly fixed. Not to mention that the tense situation and the pressure of time had detracted from her actual skills. Her only comfort was that dusk was increasing and no one would notice that her seams would not bear a closer examination. She prayed that the mess of a dress that she wore would last longer than she expected it would do.

Their arrival was already awaited. Judith noticed a tall scraggy soldier rising to his feet, dutifully making his way straight towards them.When he stood right in front of them, Judith observed that he had brought an item along. To her greatest discomfort she had to discover a rope in his hand.

"Your horse is given a rub-down and water, Sir", the soldier reported to Tavington.

"I thank you, Lieutenant Pearson", Tavington replied with an appreciative nod.

"Anything else you want me to do, Sir?" Pearson gestured at Judith indicating that he was ready to bind her. It seemed to be a mere formality for him to ask Tavington's assent to a common practice. "I shall settle this for you, Sir", he volunteered with alacrity.

Something in his look gave Judith the distinct feeling that it wasn't for the sake of sheer zeal that Pearson was so keen on taking care of her. Instinctively, she backed away from the lieutenant until she bumped against Tavington.

Judith had subconsciously sought his nearness, but the actual contact made a flash of dread run through her body. A swift glance at him confirmed that both her jostling and her anxiety were apparently matters of complete indifference to him. He simply ignored her. Now realizing that she had given Tavington every reason to be disgusted with her, she expected him to consent. Why would he not have her tied up? After all she was a captive.

"Very attentive of you, Lieutenant, but there's no hurry", Tavington rejected Pearson's offer, though. To that Judith gave a secret sigh of relief as the matter was likely to be postponed for a while. "Where is Captain Bordon?" Tavington demanded to know.

Lieutenant Pearson scratched his ear as if he felt awkward to answer.

"I saw him last bustling around the fireplace, Sir. Um… I'm afraid it's his turn to do the cooking tonight", he replied, clearly regretting that he could not give any better report.

"Oh no. Heaven forbid!" Tavington drew a face of aversion. "Honestly Lieutenant, next time we should really see to it that Captain Bordon won't come off a loser again when you draw lots for this task."

"Aye, Sir", Lt. Pearson shortly nodded to that and smirked.

Judith felt Tavington's hand firmly grip her upper arm, forcing her to move along with him. Disregarding the fact that his harsh touch all but hurt, she was thankful to rest under the sway of the Colonel for the time being. However, although Tavington had just declined his immediate services, Lieutenant Pearson silently followed the two of them of his own accord.

Captain Bordon still seemed to be in a tiff as he was bothering himself with preparing something to eat.

In a way Judith was happy to give him back his coat, perhaps this would cheer him up and he would stop frightening her with his gloomy looks.

"Excuse me, Sir," she addressed him politely and made him look up from his current occupation. "I'd like to give this back to you. Thank you, Sir, for lending me your coat."

"You're welcome, Madam", he said, smiling broadly at her. And although Judith was glad to observe his scowl brightening at the sight of her in a whisk, she couldn't help reading an obnoxious tinge within his ostensible friendliness. Bordon took the coat and gave her a short nod. He was about to put it on without any further ado when he got interrupted.

"I don't know, Captain", Colonel Tavington made himself heard. "If I were in your stead I wouldn't let her get off so easily. It shows a regrettable lack of gratitude to fob you off with a simple 'Thank you' in return for the kind loan of your coat, wouldn't you say?"

Judith stared at Tavington in disbelief. What on earth was he driving at? He was not possibly issuing him a warrant to assault her?

"After all it has been rendering her good services so far. If I were you, Captain, I'd consider to make her lend you a hand with preparing our night meal", Tavington suggested, having a strong case for it at the back of his mind. "It's only fair. I should think, no one will blame you if you made her doing you a favor as well."

"Oh, you'd do a favor to all of us, Miss." Judith found a somewhat stocky, basically good-tempered seeming soldier impishly blinking at her. Without being asked, he had joined in the conversation and now went on almost beseechingly, "It would be so nice for a change to have something else but burnt beans for dinner."

"You shut your mouth, Adams!" Borden growled, blushing from the cheeks to the temples.

Caught by the unselfconscious grin of the soldier, who although lower in rank, was not afraid to make such brisk mockery of Captain Bordon, Judith couldn't help feeling amused and stifled a giggle.

"Do you think it's funny?" Borden snarled at Judith, bringing her abruptly back to reality.

"No. No, Sir, of course not." Judith hurried to say and went on with the sincerest of her intentions to appease him, "I really don't think it's funny to have burnt beans for dinner." When she heard her own words spoken out, she would have liked to slap herself in the face.

With the exception of Captain Bordon, everybody in earshot laughed out loud at her remark.

Judith quickly realized that wearing her heart on her sleeve had not exactly turned out to be a gift. She had better take care to put him in a lenient mood.

"Excuse me, Sir. Next time I will try not to speak faster than my mind works."

Bordon looked daggers at Judith.

"Pray that your cuisine is more decent than your tongue."

This was not the direction he had fancied their acquaintance would take.

"Alright, then it's done. For the purpose of contributing something to our community, the lady shall be granted the privilege to move freely until further notice", Tavington decided. "I think, this answers the question of her custody for the present, Lieutenant Pearson", he said without so much as actually turn to him.

"Aye, Sir." Lt. Pearson made a wry face. Not overly pleased that his services would definitely not be needed at the moment, he stomped off.

"Now, tell me, Madam", Bordon took the floor, still glaring at her, "if you think you can do that better than I, what's for dinner tonight?"

Hoping not to put her foot in her mouth again, Judith replied cautiously, "I'm not sure, Sir, but I daresay there's no big choice, if beans are the only comestibles in stock, is there?"

Bordon scowled at her. Then he glanced at Tavington and raised a brow in silent request. Tavington who stood behind Judith nodded. Empowered by the Colonel, Bordon ordered, "Lieutenant Adams, fetch the haversacks that the lady may see for herself."

Without hesitation, Adams went about it. Judith saw him heading to one of the horses. It was a heavy built horse, not as finely shaped as the others that the Dragoons used to ride.

"Erasmus!" it escaped form her lips in disbelief as Judith finally recognized Sarah's staunch farm horse. The Dragoons must have taken him along when they had left the devastated cottage. Only slowly, as if she refused to believe it, Judith set about to comprehend, what this meant.

When Adams returned, he handed the bags to Captain Bordon, who placed them right in front of Judith.

"You may choose from these whatever you like", Bordon encouraged her with taunting bounteousness.

Judith stood rooted to the spot, gazing at the full saddle-bags in trance.

Observing that the woman was not likely to empty the bags, Adams eventually took the liberty to open them, as he was curious for himself to see what the haversacks contained in detail.

Bordon was gratified to see Judith's increasing dismay and joined Adams in his endeavor. In no time a various assortment of goods had come to light.

"You see, Madam, we've got potatoes, carrots, onions, even some eggs, only to mention a few. Do you think _Your Highness_ can work with these?" Borden asked with biting sarcasm, feasting his eyes on her grief. He felt sweet satisfaction to have turned the tables, now paying her back for the derision.

"Goodness gracious!" it burst from her. "You've stolen these viands at Sarah's farm. First you murder her and then you rob her as well. Is there really nothing sacred to you?"

"Well, we've run a little short of rations and frankly speaking, I think your friend has no use for them any more, has she?" Adams viewed the matter from a rather practical angle and shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't you have any scruples? That's irreverent! It's a sin to plunder a dead person. Don't you fear for your soul, Sir?" Judith spat at him reproachfully.

Lieutenant Adams appeared to be equally affected and confused by her vehement accusation. His eyes wandered back and forth from Bordon to Tavington, not sure whether he should feel guilty or not.

"I assumed you would know, times are hard these days", Tavington thought fit to intervene. "And it would be sin to waste any kind of food. It's simply too valuable to let it perish within the ruins of a farm that only lately has turned vacant, whereas my men know to appreciate some variation in their daily coarse fare." Tavington observed that due to his intervention Lieutenant Adams seemed to have come to terms with his conscience again as he saw him proceeding to examine the food. "To take the stores was in no way an act of irreverence! I'd rather regard it as our gracious Lord's way to give _us _Our daily bread."

"Yeah, …and jam." Adams added to this in serene assent, pointing at a jar in his hand.

Judith turned her head towards him and saw him opening the jar. With relish he stuck his fingers in it and greedily licked the sugary fruit mass off them. He truly enjoyed the sweet taste on his tongue. He didn't mean to be tactless.

„Shame on you, Sir! Shame on you all!" Judith snarled. "Don't you realize the impiety in this? You cannot seriously expect me to prepare a meal of any of these supplies for you. It's disgusting!"

"We don't _expect_ you to do it, we _demand_ it of you", Tavington corrected her. "And now I ask you to stop harping on religion, for I think you have no reason to lecture any of my men on that matter. Not to mention that the subject can easily cut both ways. But since you claim to be so pious yourself; might I suggest you regard it as a funeral repast?"

"I prefer to starve, rather than to sit at one table with a horde of godless bastards", Judith lashed out and went so far as to predict in a blazing temper, "One fine day you all will stew in hell for this!"

That was when Tavington blew his top. "Eat your words, Madam! Who do you think you are to pass sentence on others!" he flew in a temper. „You may think yourself oh so faithful and God-fearing. But I tell you this: Judge not, lest ye be judged!"

All of a sudden, each and everybody had fallen silent and no one dared to budge. The air was so tense, it almost physically hurt. Judith gaped at Tavington. She knew the scriptural words well. Nonetheless they seemed to sound strange and alien to her when spoken by the Butcher. Judith was too stunned to say anything in return. With everybody else, she held her breath in anxious anticipation for Tavington to continue.

"None less than the Almighty Lord will sit in judgment on us as he watches us from above. What I wonder does he see?

Isn't it more likely that you are the ones awaiting his damnation, you who have started a revolt against King George, sovereign by the Grace of God, you who have rebelled against His holy order? Now, we are sent to restore this order. And whether it may please you or not, the good Lord contrives in His own inscrutable ways to care for His people.

If you still fail to believe me, I assure you it's all in the in the Scriptures:

'_Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet our heavenly Father feedeth them.' "_

"The fowls? In a pig's eye! You seem to ignore the Commandments, Sir: Thou shalt not murder. Thou shalt not steal. _You_ act like the falcons, who have come to hunt down the doves. And to speak of you as any other than that would be perverting His word!" Judith held against it, even though slightly shaken.

"Far be it from me! I've already told you I strongly believe in it. And why would I not?

'_The __Lord__ is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters'_ ", Tavington recited another scriptural passage. He had spread his arms, gesturing at the immediate surrounding. And in fact, there was no denying that their momentary stay matched perfectly well the biblical description. Skipping a few lines, which were not relevant to his chain of evidence, he continued, " _'I will fear no evil: for thou art with me… Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.'_

Now, I'm asking you, Madam, could the Almighty reward my services any more generously? How much more evidence do you need to make you see, whom the Lord is likely to give His preferences? Honestly, isn't it rather you who ought to reflect on their point of view?"

Judith was shocked to see Tavington justifying his actions by referring to the Bible, twisting and warping the actual meaning until it fit nicely to his own purposes.

"The Bible, Sir, is not a haberdashery where you can choose from the display what lives up to your liking and forget about the rest", she tried to put him off.

"Then you do well to re-read it thoroughly", Tavington retorted. "However so badly it may fit in your plans, you finally have to face it: Judging by appearances, there's a great probability that the Lord has taken our side. In all your patriotic blindness, has it ever even occurred to you he might have decided on us? You surely don't want to go so far as to allege that the British are a folk of heathens."

"No", Judith quickly shook her head. "I… I just….", she struggled for words.

Bewildered, she looked around and saw men sitting in the grass, lost in thoughts, writing letters, smoking, taking off their boots, calming down from a day's work. And for a small moment she saw the husbands, brothers, sons and fathers of someone underneath those foreign uniforms. Each of them having left their own private life back in England, thinking of their beloved who prayed to see them again one day.

Could Tavington be right?

Last but not least James was one of them and he was certainly not a monster. Was it in fact her who had been led astray? Judith felt as if Tavington had just cut the ground from under her feet.

"What is it, Madam? No backtalk from you this time?"

In fact, Judith didn't know what to say. Her head reeled and she lowered her gaze.

"You see, the Bible is no unknown book to me. Quite on the contrary, I always thought the Exegesis to be a highly interesting thing as the Scriptures are open to wide interpretation, Madam."

"You're right, Sir. It's indeed a wide field, and it appears that the two of us are standing at the opposite ends."

"How awful for you, Madam. But don't worry, it's never too late to regret one's trespasses and make a new start. I'm only afraid, for the present, Bible class is over. To work with you now!" Tavington ordered harshly and left her standing with Bordon and Adams.

His withdrawal was a load off her mind. However, the decreasing tension left her with a feeling of profound defeat. Awkwardly she turned to Captain Bordon and found him triumphantly gazing at her. She willed away some tears.

"What am I to do, Sir?", she asked subdued, ready to fetch and carry for him.

To her great astonishment the Captain was about to issue her with a dagger. When Bordon noticed the surprise in Judith's face, he too saw the potential hazard in it.

"Be sure not to play old Harry with it", he warned her. "For should I catch you using it any other way than peeling or cutting vegetables, I'll do a little cutting of my own. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir." Judith agreed subserviently and took the dagger with a throbbing heart.

It came to lay heavy in her hand. While the wieldy handle looked worn, the blade seemed to be well-cared-for. With horror she imagined what this knife might already have cut other than food.

"What are you waiting for? Get to it!" he ordered, flattering himself in the belief that he could boss her around for a while.

In the beginning Judith went to work as clumsily as Bordon, whose efforts to peel some potatoes rather resembled an attempt at carving. But soon she came to an arrangement with the unfamiliar long blade and it became more and more easy for Judith to settle into her work. In a way it was even soothing to busy herself with an occupation in which she was well practised. Not for long, though. After a while, work itself grew less important to her as she tried to order her thoughts. That gave rise to boundless feelings of disgust with herself. She was preparing Sarah's food for her murderers! Grudgingly, Judith threw potato upon potato into a pot, not caring to actually hit.

Bothered by the quickly following thuds, Bordon looked up and found Judith paring the potatoes with a maddening speed.

"Hey, easy does it! Be careful, Madam." Bordon urged her to lessen the pace. "The blade's sharp. It's not a toy."

"Are you afraid I might put it against you? Don't worry, Sir, if you judge people's skill with a knife by the number of gorges they have cut, I confess to be rather inexperienced." Judith rejoined, having peeled three times more potatoes than Bordon in the same time.

By the time supper was ready to be served, Judith was truly enclosed by a cluster of soldiers who seemed to be more interested in her than in the meal. When she began to provide each of the men with a portion they tried everything to get in physical contact with her. They made it look like random when they touched her hand longer than necessary to receive their plate and their piece of bread. Others pushed and nudged her, never failing to accidentally pat her rear. Soon Judith got an idea of how Sarah must have felt when she had spun around in the midst of them, finding no secure place to stay.

Soldiers were all around and Judith wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to endure their advances. Obviously the pack of wolves had started to split up its prey. And Judith was afraid they would not stop at the food. Apprehensively she peered around but James was still not there to claim his share. So she was forced to valiantly continue her work.

"Hm, this smells quite tempting," said one of them. He had approached her from behind and inhaled deeply, leaning over to bring his nose obtrusively close to her neck. Spilling the just filled soup ladle, Judith whipped round and recognized Lieutenant Pearson, who gazed at her lasciviously.

"Yes, and it will taste all the better, since it is served by such a nice piece of crumpet", said another with unveiled brazenness.

"A real tidbit", a third soldier assented to them ambiguously.

Judith felt her panic increasing. But she didn't want to show any of the anxiety into which the men were putting her. On that purpose she recalled the immorality of their doing and it made her angry enough to hold her ground undaunted. Masking her fear behind verbal resistance she spat at them, "May it get stuck in your throats!"

"Now, now, everyone, let's settle down", Colonel Tavington admonished suddenly. He too had joined the gathering to fetch his portion. "Again I'm surprised to see how this continent makes people forget their manners."

The lewdness on the faces of his men died away instantly. Judith couldn't help thinking that in a pack of wolves it was only the leader who could give her some protection. This time, almost grateful for his interference she subconsciously filled his dish a bit more generously than those of the other men, not yet knowing that Tavington had not had in mind to protect her.

His basic concern was not for her person or her safety in itself. What applied to James Wilkins, applied to everybody else, too. She was his trophy alone, hence she was not to be touched by anybody. For that reason alone, he had put a stop to his men.

"Where I come from," Tavington went on with a teacher's voice and then addressed exclusively to Judith with his censure, "they say 'Enjoy your meal', Madam."

With that he took his share from her and sat down next to Captain Bordon who had already started to eat.

Judith had to understand that it was an illusion to expect reliable support from the Colonel.

Frank Bordon had wisely kept out of the whole wrangling. He knew about Tavington's egotism where young women were concerned. However, he still was anything but indifferent to Judith's charms. Not even the unpleasant debacle when they had met again at the fireplace had chilled his furtively seething desire for her. And unlike the others, he could take the situation with a smile as he had the magnificent edifying feeling to have an advantage over the Colonel.

He was surrounded by a cloud of a befuddling odor only that it was not the delicate, spicy smell of food, which appealed to his senses. It was the indefinable sweet fragrance of Judith's femininity that emanated from his coat. Since he had put it on again her scent was all around him, ever present, and blessed him with enticement.

For the moment he had to put up with the food, alright, but he was confident his time would come and then he would be prepared to give her something in return for this meal.


	13. Cold Feet and Hot Tears

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 13 – Cold Feet and hot Tears

Judith continued to deal out the food to the rest of the men. Now that Tavington had put his foot down the unruly bunch of soldiers dispersed and the men got into an orderly line, patiently waiting their turn. Nobody dared utter another personal remark. Provided with their ration of steaming stew, the Dragoons took their meal in relative silence. Lieutenant Adams was the last one in the queue who held out his plate to receive his portion and the only one who met her with a frank smile.

However, Judith could not bring herself to smile back. Although he had not yet shown any sign of suggestiveness towards her, Judith's feelings for him were rather reserved. She had not forgotten his eagerness when he had explored the haversacks Erasmus had been carrying. Only too well, she remembered him snatching the jam jar and simply could not forgive his uninhibited indulgence.

His scandalous unconcern for the atrocity in this act still infuriated her to the extent that she grudged him any further mouthful. Judith did not bother to disguise her repugnance, when she filled his plate. Only hesitantly she reached for the last piece of bread loath to pass it to him.

Adams wholly misread her reluctance. Concluding from his own empty, rumbling stomach he figured she might be hungry, too.

"You may keep the bread, if you like", he offered her kindly.

Flashes of disgust hit him when Judith met his concern for her with an angry stare.

"The devil shall take me, if I should have even a single bite of this food!" she rejected his offer sharply, putting all her condemnation into it, when she handed him the bread along with a contemptuous look.

For an instant Adams felt rebuffed. He had been far from doing any harm to her, which would have justified such a fit of indignation. Frowningly, he sized her up. Lieutenant Adams found an angry young woman standing tall in front of him, holding the soup ladle with grim resoluteness. But also, underneath all the steadfastness that her bearing was displaying so powerfully, he noted the haggard look in her eyes and it gave him a vague idea of how helpless and lost she must feel inside. Intuitively, Adams took compassion on her. She rather appeared like a beaten avenging angel to him. At this saddening sight of Judith, Lieutenant Adams possessed humanity enough to make allowance for her suffering and refrained from taking serious offence at her harsh words. However, for all his understanding for her difficult situation it was beyond him how anyone could despise something decent to eat.

"All right", he shrugged his shoulders, "Have it your way then."

Now that Judith saw her mission to supply everybody with his share of food accomplished, she observed that a heeltap of soup had remained in the pot. Speculatively she stirred up the rest. Perhaps it was not exactly another plate full, but certainly enough to save it for James. Judith let her gaze wander beyond the borders of the camp. Wistfully, she stared into the dark as if she expected James to appear there every moment.

"He won't be back any time soon", someone said, and Judith found herself deprived of her hope. She had paid no attention to Lieutenant Adams who had stayed in the vicinity to the fireplace. He too had not failed to notice that there were still some leftovers in the cauldron. Pursing his lips, he leaned over it and squinted meaningfully at the reminder of the stew. "Considering that", he picked up the thread of his previous statement, "and the fact that you, Madam, strangely prefer to eat nothing, I was just wondering…", he artificially paused until their gazes met right above the cauldron, "…if I could possibly have some more. For _I_ wouldn't mind an extra portion."

Judith snorted. "No doubts about that, Sir!"

"Pardon?" Lieutenant Adams narrowed his eyes.

Judith looked into a suddenly stern face. Every kindness had vanished from his otherwise gentle, dark eyes. She could not detect the faintest hint of his former considerateness for her anymore. And Judith understood that his request was not to be refused. Without any further objection she filled his plate to the rim.

Smiling again, Lieutenant Adams retired highly content with his achievement, carefully balancing the overfull plate.

In the meantime the first soldiers had already finished their meal. Some of them stepped up to Judith and gave her to understand that she was not yet done with her work. Once they had started to deliver their dirty plates to her, others followed their example and soon numerous dishes piled up before Judith. Usually the men would have settled this each on their own, but now that a skirt was around they saw no need to bother with the dishwashing themselves.

And apparently Colonel Tavington had no objections to it.

"Adams, have an eye on her!" Tavington ordered the jam-loving Lieutenant to guard Judith, while he himself would finish his meal without disturbance.

Lieutenant Adams, who had only just had a couple of mouthfuls of his supper, was only moderately pleased. Being no bad eater he could have done without an interruption of the most pleasurable part of the day. Of course he did not utter a word of protest, instead he got his gear and a torch and set about to escort Judith.

Judith took the dirty plates and bowls and carried them to the creek. Once she had started her work, she didn't loiter to finish it, for she felt her fingers growing numb in the cold water of the creek. Now and again, soldiers came and either brought new plates along or picked up their cleaned ones. Judith pretended to ignore them and luckily the men seemed to pay just as little attention to her.

That was until Judith was addressed by someone in an unmistakably contentious manner, "Hey, you call this a clean plate?"

"Excuse me, Sir?" Overcome by sudden panic, she rose to her feet and turned to face the speaker. She found herself in front of a wiry Dragoon and automatically stepped back when she sized his height. By instinct, Judith was anxious to get close to the safety of her guard, Lieutenant Adams.

The disaffected Dragoon on his part cared to keep the gap between him and Judith as small as possible. "I don't appreciate my dishware to be given a lick and a promise," he declared gruffly and forced the plate back into her hands.

In the dim flickering light of the torch, Judith couldn't say whether there had remained some leftovers on it or whether it were only some shadows of dents in the plate. Either way it was no big affair, and the thought suggested itself that the complainer had simply sought to find a fly in the ointment. When she looked up at him again, in the low gleam of light Judith recognized the soldier. It was Lieutenant Pearson who now eyed her with undisguised malice. Seeing this, her previous resentment at him suddenly turned into utter apprehension, especially as Tavington was not exactly close by. Judith understood that Pearson's complaint was nothing but a mere pretext to finally get close to her.

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir, if I have overlooked something", Judith tried to appease him, scrupulously intent on sounding as respectful as possible. "It's pretty dark already and beyond the torch lit area it's even…"

"Don't think you can skimp on your work and blame it on nightfall," he cut up rough, "We have no use for sluggards."

Intimidated by the vehemence of his words Judith hastily moved further away from him.

"Watch out, Miss!" Adams called out all of a sudden and in the midst of her movement, Judith got harshly pushed aside. She had just got rescued from backing straight into the torch.

"Man alive, Adams! Why have you done that?" Pearson complained, "You've just spoiled all the fun. What a pity! I imagine her quite lovely when presenting a couple of hot thighs to us."

"Stop it, Pearson!" Adams intended to finish the squabble that threatened to get out of control.

"Why?" Pearson returned and after a swift glance to the camp fire on the purpose of making sure that Tavington was still in a sufficient distance, he blew up at his fellow soldier, "Who are you to give me orders?"

"I have order to guard her!" Lieutenant Adams replied without flinching. "For good reason as it seems. And I tell you to leave her alone!" Outwardly still remaining calm, his words had a clear overtone of serious warning.

Lieutenant Pearson gave a grunt of disrespect at that. "No wonder that the Colonel entrusted her to you, who hardly thinks anything more alluring than a good meal", he expressed his annoyance of the unfavorable status quo, not even attempting to hide a sneer at his comrade's notorious predilection for food. When he saw that Adams failed to see any fun in it, Pearson changed his tone and sounded quite jovial when he continued, "Come now, don't get me wrong, pal! I do not grudge you the pleasure. There's nothing wrong with that. You don't have to make a fuss! I know you well enough to understand that you just want to take your meal in silence, don't you? Very well, that's fair enough. So why bother with that trollop when you can easily pass her to me to keep watch over her for a while? No one will take notice of it."

Pleadingly Judith looked at Adams, desperately hoping he would not let things get so far. Alas, one did not have to be a mind-reader to guess Adam's thoughts. Judith badly regretted her former impoliteness towards the man for she saw him earnestly contemplating Pearson's suggestion. No doubt, he preferred a meal in peace and quiet to the company of a disrespectful woman. And Judith knew only too well that she had to thank herself for it. Now, Adams too turned around and cast a searching glance in Tavington's direction to see how the land lay. Then he slowly turned back, weighing his benefit of the matter and shoveled up another spoon of food in his mouth.

"All right", he finally agreed chewing.

"Which leaves the matter of the dirty plate to the two of us", Pearson said with a wicked smile when he turned to Judith, whose mind had gone blank with panic for a moment.

"Please, Sir, take my apology, I didn't do that on purpose," Judith said humbly and held fast to the plate that did not really need a second cleaning. "Just wait a moment and I will set it right", she promised him with desperate eagerness.

"You had better set it right, little slut!" said Pearson, who everything but acknowledged her readiness to oblige.

Judith needed to gather all her courage to pass him by and went to work without delay. She was only just about to squat down at the creek when Pearson continued his torment, "Behold, that's just what I thought. Tell me, young Miss, are we too distinguished to do some proper work? How dare you to wash the dishes in the cloudy water of the bank? No wonder, you don't get them clean."

With that, Pearson gave her a kick with his boot. Judith shrieked in pain and terror as she sprawled forwards on the muddy ground.

"God damn it, Pearson! Is that your idea of rendering me an undisturbed mealtime? That will do now!" Adams interfered angrily. He had no desire to explain any unusual occurrences to Colonel Tavington. "Stop leaning on her! What's the good of it? She might just as well have dropped in the creek."

"You don't say, Adams", Pearson replied not overly intimidated. "Are you afraid, I might get her wet?" His voice was fraught with lechery.

"Stop that ribaldry, Pearson, or else!" Lieutenant Adams had risen to his feet, menacing the provoker with clenched fists. He had assumed an attitude which left no doubt that he was dead serious in his threat of violence. His challenging glare at Pearson underlined his readiness to make use of force if necessary.

"Please don't. It's alright, Sir", Judith tried to take the sting out of the situation as she struggled back to her feet. "It's been my fault alone. From now on I shall settle things to everybody's contentment." Judith gave in and started to put off her shoes.

She now saw that Colonel Tavington hadn't been exaggerating when he had told her about the possible effect her presence might have on his men. She felt like a wedge driving between them. They already had started to build up hostility and envy among each other. She had no intention of making things worse than they already were.

Thus, she lifted her skirt and fixed it between her knees. After all Tavington had put her through she wouldn't compromise herself by granting those Lieutenants a look at a pair of unclothed calves. Cautiously she stepped into the water. It was icy. Cutting coldness ran through her entire body. When she had reached the middle of the creek-bed and bent down to clean the dish in the floods, one lappet of her skirt loosened and got soaked with water.

But Judith was determined to persist with her work. She wouldn't give that Pearson any further chance to find fault with his damn plate. With every chattering of her teeth anger and defiance mingled with her intimidation that primarily had made her step into the floods barefooted and when she left the creek again it had got the better of her.

"Did my dishwashing live up to your standards this time, Sir? Does it suit you now?" defiantly she presented the plate to Pearson. "Otherwise I can only offer to lick it clean for you. I assume it's rather what you wanted me to do, isn't it?"

All of a sudden, Lieutenant Pearson grasped her under her chin and held it fixed. "Sharp tongue you have there, Miss. I'm sure you would indeed do a great job liking things clean. You should have offered that service a little earlier. Most probably it would have pleased the both of us."

Rebelling against his bold advance, Judith resolutely pushed his hand aside.

To her unpleasant surprise, she had greatly underestimated those well-trained reflexes of Lieutenant Pearson. Before she knew it, Pearson had repositioned his flat hand firmly on her mouth and jerked her round effortlessly like a doll so that he came to stand obtrusively close behind her. With his other arm he entwined her waist, tying down her arms and fixing them tight to her body in an iron embrace. With added pressure to the hand that kept her mouth shut he now forced her head back against his chest.

"Just for your information, Miss Cheeky, you're not the only one who has the knack of using their tongue effectively." To give a sample of his questionable ability, he let his tongue run over the delicate skin of her neck like a dog that was languishing for water on a hot summer day, greedily licking all the way up to her ear conch. "You must admit, I'm quite good at it, am I not?" he coquetted with the smugness of a lecher.

Judith struggled with all her might against his maltreatment. Well noticing her fruitless attempts at self-defense, Pearson just smirked at her anguish. It made him turn even more audacious so that he neglected his vice-like grip on her. He let his hand move down to her lap where he felt the result of her mishap in the creek. "Oh, yes, indeed. It appears that you have enjoyed this quite a bit, you've turned moist to the cleft after all."

Instantly, Judith felt her womanhood responding to that. Flooded with quickly recurrent waves of mad panic, it began to throb uncontrollably, sending out stabbing pangs as if it made ready to fight off the soldier's hand of its own. After one second allowance for reaction time the rest of her body put up a fierce resistance as well. Notwithstanding the pain she caused herself, Judith kicked and punched at Pearson until she finally managed to powerfully ram her elbow into his stomach. And although it did not exactly send him to the floor, it helped her to break free from his rude embrace.

"That's enough now!" Adams suddenly interceded as he finally saw the need to comply with his actual order. He barred Pearson's way, allowing the woman to take cover behind him. "This is my last warning! Leave the lady alone."

"Pshaw! Lady!" Pearson spat out. "She's just an insolent colonial minx!"

Seeing that Pearson showed no sign of knuckling under, Adams stepped up to him: "Beat it!"

"We'll meet again, wench!" Pearson threatened over Adams' shoulder at Judith before he quickly withdrew.

When Adams returned his attention to Judith, he saw her bending over, her body shaking as she battled with nausea.

Her attempt to wipe her beslobbered neck, had resulted in the fact that her hand too had got soiled with Pearson's saliva. The smell of his spittle had risen to her nose and sickened her at once. In a frantic effort to get rid of it, she had started to rub her hand with the fabric of her skirt, but to no avail. While her hand had soon turned dry, the disgusting smell got stuck in her nose. Judith felt her stomach turning upside down and she tried hard to keep herself from throwing up.

Lieutenant Adams felt awkward in the presence of an indisposed woman. Self-consciously, he cleared his throat, "I apologize for him. He shouldn't speak so. You see, he's a fine marksman, not so refined in his manners, though."

"You need not defend such uncouth behavior, Sir!"

Her profound disdain helped her to finally compose herself. Judith wrung out the drenched part of her skirt and found that the fabric was soiled with mud. With dread she thought of the next morning, imagining what a nice mess she would look like and sighed in despondency.

"I now do understand that you refrained from joining us in this meal. Nonetheless, it was an excellent one and I just wanted to let you know. Much better than what I had in a long row of weeks. Thank you."

"I would lie if I said that you were welcome. Still, I thank you for the kind words, Sir." Judith said humbly.

"You are a brave girl. Take care of yourself."

This sentence sounded appallingly familiar to Judith. She had heard people saying it to her many times before and she recognized the sentiment behind it only too well. He was sincere. As sincere as all the people who had said it to her so far, meaning to give her comfort, well knowing they were not in a position to actually help.

Judith was not convinced whether she was really was in a position to take care of herself this time. So far, life had seldom left her any other choice. She knew that she would trade being brave for being carefree at once. She wondered if she would ever be granted that luxury.

Settling back into her work, she cried silent tears. No one noticed them or at least no one cared.

* * *

Night had fallen on the little camp and a modest camp fire was the only source of light and warmth. Judith cared to stay in the light zone while some of the soldiers had retired already. Judith felt how it was getting colder and colder. Although the days were already sunny and warm the nights could still get quite cold at this time of the year.

James had not yet returned and Judith wondered where or how she was supposed to spend the night. The rest of the men were sitting around the fire and either ate the rest of their supper or stared into the fire. Tavington sat right in front of her on the other side of the camp-fire and Judith could see him watching her through the flickering flames. The others watched her, too, but they dared no more to approach her verbally or physically. Bordon was reattired in his coat and sat there with a cross expression on his face at least as far as Judith could judge. The dim moving light of the fire made them all look somewhat gloomy. If only James would come back soon.

Tavington stood up, stretched his body and yawned. Then he turned, went away from the fire and threatened to vanish into the darkness of the night. Judith had not precisely felt safe in his presence, but the thought of his absence was vastly more scary to her. She glanced around but only felt an increased urge to stay with him. The expressions on the faces of the men made them appear like hungry wolves only waiting to get the chance to have a go on her.

"Where are you going?" Judith saw Tavington disappear in the dark. "Sir?" she wanted to know, her voice quavering with the panic that was rising in her. An icy shiver ran down her back and this time it had nothing to do with the chill of a cold spring night.

"I'm going to sleep," Tavington explained simply.

"But…" Judith set about to say something in return. Unfortunately she was lacking the right words. She wanted him to stay. Or if this was not possible, at least, she wanted to leave along with him. But none of this wanted to come over her lips. So she remained silent, sitting there, anxiously staring at him with a half-opened mouth.

"Oh, of course, I see your problem, how inattentive of me," Tavington slapped his forehead. "You will want to have something to wrap around you that protects you from… let's say… the eerie shadows of the night, won't you? Well, each of my men has a blanket in his field pack. Perhaps one, perhaps several of them will be in the mood to share it with you. I think, you may have their company for the mere asking. Good night!"

Feverishly Judith peered around and saw all eyes directed on her. She panicked and nearly screamed when she saw Lieutenant Pearson leering at her openly now. Given the choice she would rather stay with her tormentor than take fresh humiliation by another man.

"And what about you, Sir?" Judith quickly kept at Tavington.

Tavington chuckled at her obvious distress. It was so easy to exercise his influence on her.

"Are you indeed asking me to share my blanket with you?" he had stepped behind her.

"Yes Sir, I guess so." Judith answered burning with shame at her request.

"With the greatest pleasure, Madam! Shall we?" he offered her his arm with nonchalant serenity as if he was about to guide her onto an imaginary dance floor. Judith on her part felt like being taken to the scaffold at her own request when they retired with their arms linked.

Their night's lodging was quickly set. In no time Tavington had arranged a provisory sleeping occasion.

"I will admit it's a bit rustic and you will find that the blanket is not that big, but I assume, if only we stay together close enough, it should cover us fairly well and assure us some agreeable warmth until morning." With a mock smile in the corner of his mouth, Tavington waited for her to lie down.

Judith hesitated.

Should she really pass the night with that man? She pointed out to herself that it was simply a matter of survival. No other man would dare to lay hand on her as long as the Colonel was near. And in case he laid hand on her again? Well, she had to take the risk. Anyway the dice had been cast now. He would hardly accept her rethinking her decision. And the alternative of bedding down with someone like Pearson against her will seemed unbearable in comparison.

Meekly she got to her knees and stretched out on the thin sleeping mat that Tavington had rolled out on the ground. She found herself looking up as he loomed above her now and wondered if he would allow he to cover herself properly with the blanket. Wordlessly he stretched out beside her, pulled her close to him with ease and wrapped the blanket around both their bodies.

Instinctively she had turned away from him as he lay down next to her, trying to preserve as much of her modesty as she could, but now that his body was pressed up against her abused back she felt every welt on her skin burn like fire.

"No, Sir, I can't lie like this. My back hurts."

"Very well, then turn around." He suggested and gave her room to reposition herself. "If you think it's more comfortable for you this way, I shall welcome it."

Right in the middle of her movement, he pulled the blanket closer to him and with it she was pulled closer to him, too. For a moment a brief image of the dragonfly caught in his closed fist earlier that day flashed through her mind. She struggled, but the simple law of gravity that pressed her uncompromisingly against his chest. Not sure if it was out of embarrassment or panic, Judith felt a sudden heat flooding through her entire body. She felt like a living bed pan to him. She knew he must feel it too, but he said nothing.

Judith did not dared to budge. Her cheek was pressed against his chest and she could hear his heart beat. Hard to believe that he had one. Suddenly she realized that she had come to rest with her right groin directly over his manhood. Judith shifted her weight nervously from here to there to get out of her compromising position.

She flinched as she suddenly heard Tavington's voice above her head. "We are feeling quite restless tonight, aren't we? Is there something in particular you need? Anything I might help you with?" he asked with a soft suggestive growl.

It was only then that she realized the obscenity of her movements and she blushed all over her body. The heat inside her became unbearable as her veins now seemed to transport lava instead of blood in the remotest corner of her every limb. Not daring to tempt him any further, she abruptly ceased every motion and lay completely still pressed against him uncomfortably. After what he had done to her earlier and what she had seen of his body she prepared in dread to feel the result of her silly behavior press against her any second now, while her hot breath beat violently against his chest.

"Well, well, well, we are rather forward", Tavington mocked her. "But they say some women who have tasted pleasure for the first time can become quite insatiable. I would not have counted you among them."

Not satisfied with his verbal baiting her rudely put his hand on her behind and pressed her up against his crotch to make her aware what his physical response to her thoughtless yet enticing conduct would be like. "Your wantonness caught me by surprise, my dear. I would have thought you would be a little more discrete about satisfying your desires."

His taunting tones and the intrusiveness of his gesture stung Judith to tears and brought back memories of the way he had outraged her in the barn. She had had no choice. He had taken her by force, and now he dared to insinuate that she had enjoyed it. That he had left her wanting for more. Before she could think clearly she started to struggle against him. "Get your hands off of me! Leave me alone!"

Tavington released her immediately and as he spoke again his voice had shed its soft tone of amused mockery and sounded sharp as cold steel.

"If you should feel like abandoning my company for the night, you really ought to consider the consequences. I guarantee this is what awaits you under every other blanket here, only along with a pair of willing hands that will not refrain from pulling up your skirt. So if you wish to enlarge your experiences on that matter, here you go!" He flipped back one edge of the blanket offering her to retreat from him.

Judith felt the cold night air brush against the thin cotton fabric of her dress and instantly regretted her thoughtless demand.

"No, Sir! I want to stay here." She whispered hysterically. "Right here. With you. I don't fancy going anywhere else. I promise I shall know to rule myself now. Please, don't send me away."

The language of her body corroborated her plea vividly. In the manner of a kitten that rolled up to rest next to the fireplace, Judith searched the closeness of his protective warmth. Her display of devotion was rewarded when Tavington covered her with the blanket once again. However conciliatory his gesture might seem, for Judith it wasn't exactly a reason to feel at ease.

She knew what he was capable of. With bated breath she waited for his hand to return to her, to force her. But nothing happened. His member did not harden. And she understood that she was safe for this night at least. He wouldn't rape her again. Not now and not here.

And yet, she could not bring herself to entirely trust him, as there was still the possibility that he might change his mind. Of course, she could not well let her hands wander down to verify it. She was aware that this would be knocking on a door which she did not wish to actually open. Yet, she couldn't resist.

Only gradually Judith began to tilt her pelvis in a way that allowed her to bring the lower part of her body close to the place where she suspected his private parts. Trying very hard to keep up an even measured movement, she was pretty sure he wouldn't take notice of her secret examination. Indeed she proceeded so slowly that she lost the feeling of how far she had actually advanced in her endeavor to detect the state of his manhood.

"I assure you it's still there", Tavington suddenly leered.

Judith almost got sick with embarrassment. "I'm sorry Sir."

"You need not be sorry. Just a little more patience and I'll give you everything a wanton woman like you can ask for. Do you think we can get some rest now?"

Little by little, Judith abandoned her cramped posture. She caught herself using his chest as a pillow much as she tried to withstand the temptation. Then again she had to pay tribute to the exertion of the day. And it did no harm to snuggle up to his chest. Her thoughts became fuzzy, confused with drowsiness and she didn't even realize it when she finally fell asleep.

Above her Tavington's lips curled in a thin sneer as he felt her even breath and her slack limbs. He had her exactly where he wanted her. And sweetest of all, she had actually pleaded with him for it. Not even twelve hours had passed and he had already broken her.

What a pleasure it would be to see James Wilkins' face in the morning when he found out where she had begged to spend the night.

But Tavington's plans were not meant to be.


	14. Between the Lines

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 14 – Between the Lines

It was not long after Judith had fallen into a first, exhausted, dreamless sleep when her night rest got interrupted by excited voices that came from over the fireplace. "Where's the Colonel? I need to report. It's urgent!"

A heavy load fell from Judith when she recognized the voice and whispered with joy to herself: "James. He's back!"

"You regard that a reason to cheer?" Tavington searched to dampen her obvious relief. He wasn't all too pleased with the unforeseen early return of the Captain.

Judith had been about to jump to her feet and take flight into the embrace of James' arms, when Tavington's remark made her realize that it would bring little happiness to James to see her rising from underneath the Colonel's blanket. Her joy at his return died away instantly, making place for some profound concern. Would James take offense at what he saw or would he understand that she had had no other choice? In fact, she feared his reaction. If only she had known that his return had been so close, she would never have asked Tavington for shelter.

The sound of footsteps quickly drew nearer and only stopped right next to the place where she and the Colonel lay.

"Sir!" James Wilkins addressed his superior respectfully but insistently. "I'm sorry to disturb, Sir, but I saw lights moving around. There are apparently men with torches wandering through the night. It might be militia. They have probably moved their activities into the night time as it has fallen so silent around them lately. I suggest we examine this more closely before they approach us closer than we like. They're not very far."

Judith drew in her head as he spoke, for she wished James would never become aware of her current whereabouts. Of course, there was no way to avoid it, still she tried. She grabbed one edge of the blanket and tried to keep herself covered with it. All for naught. None too gently, Tavington pushed her aside as she hindered him to stand up, leaving her half covered lying on the ground. To make her exposure perfect, he ripped the blanket from her hands with one powerful movement as he rose to his feet. She now half lay, half sat on the ground, shyly casting shameful glances at James.

James Wilkins had been waiting for Tavington to answer. He was used to quick decisions by the Colonel in situations like this. Instead of a combat-ready colonel, however, he saw sluggish movements from under the blanket and he wondered if Tavington had really been that fast asleep that it took him so long to get to his feet. Had he heard him at all? James couldn't tell whether the Colonel was just turning around or whether he was about to stand up. Then finally the blanket was thrown back and James saw the reason for the delay.

Judith had been with him.

"What on earth…" James began but was lacking the words to finish his sentence. It hurt him to see Judith peeling off the blanket. As far as he could make it out, she was dressed properly, and nothing hinted at an unseemly attachment between her and Tavington. Still it had a bad taste. Then again, no, it was not like Judith to spend the night with a man that easily. How else had she gotten under this blanket then? Had Tavington forced her? In front of the men? It appeared just as implausible to him as a willing Judith.

"Moving lights you say? Not far from here?" Tavington interrupted James' thoughts about the possible background of Judith presence under his blanket, while he casually flattened his clothes.

"Yes, Sir. They're on the other side of the hill. They may not discover us, but in case they're militia it would be an excellent occasion to finally get hold of them," James perfunctorily gave the requested information, not taking his eyes off Judith.

Normally, Tavington would never have accepted someone talking to him without the fitting measure of attention. But if he interpreted the present situation right, it was yearning to take its own course.

A quarrel was in the air. Something told Tavington that it would be way more effective to set them apart if he let them have their way. At least for the while that the troop needed to get ready. He refrained from interfering as he thought it wiser to allow things to develop themselves. He was curious to see who of them would lose their temper first.

Contrary to Tavington, who seemed to be far from feeling caught or ashamed, Judith was completely caught up in her discomfiture. With difficulty she finally got to her feet. She was battling for words to explain the situation to James. Awkwardness and regret spoke from her every movement. James was torn between jealousy and sympathy. She had been under his blanket, she had been lying with her tormentor. What should he think of it?

"How many are they?" Borden had joined their little gathering, holding a torch in his hand.

"I've counted round about a dozen lights, it might be more men." It was hardly anything more than a voicing of facts as James' mind solely circled around Judith.

Tavington did not precisely appreciate Bordon's meddling in the conversation for he felt clearly it was better not to put the two of them off their argument, but even before he could give any further word of command, eventually it burst from Judith: "James, this is not what it looks like. This is not what you think!"

James couldn't help but think that her words were nothing more than those of an unfaithful wife for her cuckolded husband. Now, Judith and he never had been in such a relationship close enough to justify his mortification. However, seeing Judith keeping company with Tavington was hard to bear and made him doubt the worthiness of his freshly made resolution to help her whatever it would take.

In the light of the torch that Bordon had brought along, James could finally make out her features in the dark. One look in her face told James more than a thousand words could say. When he saw all the unspoken words of genuine despair in her eyes, he suddenly knew for sure what to do.

"Since when do you care about what I am thinking?" James replied with a stony face.

"Oh my god, James. Please, don't let me down. You see, I can explain this…"

"There's nothing you need to explain to me, Judith!"

"Please James, listen, I understand that the situation must look strange to you, maybe it wouldn't if I had ever given you the chance to get to know me better. I know, I should have talked to you before…"

"A regrettably late remorse of yours, Judith, wouldn't you say?"

"But James, it's never too late to tell the truth."

"And what truth would that be, Judith?" James paused and focused on Judith with a stern face that made everybody believe he was about to give her the walking papers. In fact though, he feverishly searched for the right words to continue. "I will only say that much: Truth is an odd one, always dependent on the beholder's view. Like a rainbow hidden anywhere within an unsteady mixture of sun and rain, only visible for those who will look upon it in the right angle. Now I'm asking you, are the two of us still looking in the same direction? What I wonder will you look upon when you see through the rain? Will you be able to spot the rainbow?"

Judith didn't know what to think. Aghast she looked at James. She knew about his refined way to express himself and treasured each line he'd ever written to her. But this was hardly the time for poetry.

So far, James had made use of this exquisite melody of words exclusively in his letters, a well composed, pictorial and intimate language that all the time had been reserved solely to the both of them. Never before had she heard him actually speak in such a manner. Judith had difficulties to see his motivation now. Was he going to abandon their solemn bonds? Seeing James lowering at her, Judith feared for the worst.

"Captain Wilkins", Frank Bordon suddenly made himself heard. "I think your private issues and philosophic embroidery do not belong here at the moment." He was sure to act just to Colonel Tavington's liking if he called a halt to their more than untimely dispute.

"I'd thank you to saddle my horse, Captain Bordon", Tavington ordered him harshly away though.

"But Sir, I really should think there's no time for the two of them to discuss their relationship…", Bordon persisted.

"And I should think you will go and saddle my horse, Captain. Do I make myself clear?"

Stunned to find Tavington not amused, Bordon knuckled under at once.

"Of course, Sir!" He knew only to well about the unpleasant consequences for those who made the Colonel repeat his orders. But never had he reckoned that he would find himself one day being the target of Tavington's wrath. To avoid further difficulties, Captain Bordon quickly withdrew.

James and Judith hadn't paid much attention to Bordon or Tavington as they were busy with themselves, eyeing one another intensively. Under the searching scrutiny of James, Judith eventually sensed that he had just attempted to speak to her in disguise. Yet she was far too agitated to respond to it in an appropriate way.

"James, I beseech you, come to your senses! Can't you see? I haven't kept all your letters for nothing!"

"My letters!" James snorted disdainfully, "They're history now. All the more as you obviously like it a bit more straightforward, don't you? So, hear my words and listen carefully because from now on I will talk to you in plain English: You see, thanks to the Colonel I had plenty of time and silence to make up my mind and quite a few things have become clear to me. I should have put a hold on my correspondence to you long time ago. It is only now that I see how stupid I've been. I promise you, I'll never do that again."

Tavington smiled, everything seemed to take the course he wanted. Unfortunately, he would have to forgo the pleasure to watch Wilkins' heart break as the young Captain seemed to have come to a reasonable resolution. Although Tavington still would have preferred to wake up with Judith in the morning, he was delighted to see his essential plan still at work. It took so little to wear a man down.

However, Judith on her part realized that James' words should have scared her to the core, but strangely they just didn't. She vaguely felt that there was something in the wording that tried hard to get through to her, like gentle rays of sun that forced their way through the rain. It wasn't yet enough to color the shadowy gray, not yet enough to make her see. Indecisively, she asked him: „Is that the same James Wilkins who has so indefatigably written letter upon letter to me in the past? Or was that all just sound and fury?"

"It is the same James Wilkins who has finally understood the folly of writing letters to you. Once I fancied to be your friend and was silly enough to put it down in the words of my letters. Now I shall know better!" In his mind he added another few thoughts, wishing he could have whispered them in her ear: 'Come on Judith, get the meaning. No longer am I to leave it at words. I'm going to _act_ as your friend.'

"James, please. I've lost Sarah already. Don't break with me. I don't want to lose another friend", Judith uttered helplessly though.

"A friend, Judith? Yes, naturally! Now that you are in need, you suddenly know how to address me, don't you?" James remarked and sounded embittered. "I can well imagine that you finally wish to have me for friend. It appears that you still have to learn a few things about friendship. True friends would hardly ever have to beg for the other one's help, would they? At least as far as I can remember I never heard you begging Sarah for a favor."

"Yes, that is because she never gave me a reason to beg. Whenever I needed her, she was just there and helped."

"You don't say! Is that really so? Well, now that you've given such pointed definition, I can see that you do know what friendship is about. How do you come to ask me a favor then? Considering that you and Sarah had ever been so close friends why don't you take her advice? Wasn't it her who always warned you of the wrong in keeping my letters? Wasn't it her who confirmed you in making a mistake in the dealing with me?"

Judith was thunderstruck. How could James know about this? In fact, Sarah had warned her to make a mistake, even though it had been the opposite of what he now suggested. But how could he know at all? Never had she actually spoken to Sarah on that matter that someone might have overheard them. It was merely in their correspondence. Judith did not believe in a mere coincidence that James had just referred so precisely to Sarah's arguments. He could not possibly have caught hold of the letter, could he? She remembered the discarded letters, maybe she had overlooked a few when she had picked them up. Provided that he knew about this special correspondence, his wording was chosen well and made perfectly sense to her. Judith cast him a questioning glance.

James on his part saw her bewilderment at the attempt to understand and could easily guess her thoughts. With only so much as giving her the idea of a nod he went on: "Turn's out she's been right! If you ask me, it's about time to finally take her advice. You could do worse than rely on a sincerely concerned friend."

"Are you serious, James?" Inwardly, Judith was so busy to comprehend that her voice threatened to fail.

"Trust me, Judith, I've never been any more serious than I am now."

"Frank words, Captain. Nice to see that you are finally taking the point," Tavington commented. He only read disappointment and sarcasm in Captain Wilkins' demeanor. "Renounced dates and closed doors are not exactly the way to prove one's fondness. If you want to know what's going on in people's heads, take a look at their deeds, not their words."

"You're telling me, Sir." James consented and was glad to see that the Colonel was about to take the bait.

Tavington had intended to pour cold water on their fondness to one another by separating James from Judith. Seeing now that James Wilkins had obviously so fundamentally changed his mind in his absence, astonished the Colonel. Tavington found it remarkable how smoothly things were running, almost too smooth. It was one thing to disavow one's affection verbally, it was another to maintain it with one's actions. Tavington decided to test Wilkins: "Well then Captain, how about some retaliation for all the heartache this woman has caused on you? Take her and bind her to a tree! We shall pick her up later."

"I should be delighted, Sir!" James agreed promptly with a voice that was fraught of satisfaction.

Tavington could observe that the Captain didn't seem to mind the order at all. James Wilkins displayed a sinister resoluteness to do as Tavington had just ordered when he stepped up to Judith and seized her harshly.

In fact, James Wilkins was delighted, delighted as he figured that his chance had just come, whereas Judith's mind raced.

Her sentiments reached from reliance to distrust. She had seen the ambiguity in James' words so far. But at the same time his present acting stood in so flagrant contradiction to it that her freshly gained hope that James might be about to help, began to falter as he dragged her with him. "Please, James, reconsider, if any of the things you have ever written to me is true, let me go! I beg of you, I beseech you: Don't do it! Let me go!" Judith pleaded, not caring that Tavington could hear her and would never allow that she escaped from under his eyes.

But judging by appearances, Tavington wouldn't need to worry about her flight as James retorted to her in a cross voice: "You've heard the colonel. It's not in the words. Well then, save your breath and let's get this over with. I've made my choice and nothing will keep me from acting according to it. Do you understand!"

It was only for a split second that Judith saw James giving her a brief wink. It was there and so fast gone that she wasn't sure if it had been real. Judith prayed she had not misread James' ulterior motives and clung to the idea that his current doing was all part of the plan and meant to her good. However, she just failed to see the good in his rather uncaring effort to actually bind her. He had already forced her against a near tree trunk and wasted no time fixing her tightly with a rope.

„Ouch, James! No, stop it! You hurt me, no, please don't. My back!" Judith bleated, trying to call on James' sympathy not to continue this.

„How much longer will this take, Captain Wilkins?" Colonel Tavington asked impatiently.

In a sudden rush of panic, Judith tried with all her might to gain some space between her back and the tree trunk. It was a futile attempt as she found the rope cutting into her arms and torso. "Oh my god, James, how can you do this to me? I'd rather be dead than to stay in that man's clutches any longer! Don't leave me here."

It was not before then that James eventually showed his true colors. Soundlessly, he unsheathed his dagger. Judith saw the blade shimmering ghostly in the pale moonlight. She had not reckoned on such an immediate compliance from James with her preference to die. Was she really to meet her death by his hand? James left her no time to wonder or worry, as he swiftly carried out his plan. With a powerful motion he let his dagger cut. A second later Judith felt the rope slacken that had tied her so relentlessly against the rough bark only moments ago. Noticed by no one, Judith beamed with felicity. Despite the deep night surrounding her, she saw the rainbow shining in all its colorful glory.

"Oh, now I see, James. You have truly made your choice then. I was blind, I should have known, I…" the rest of her rather thoughtless intent to express her thanks and gratefulness muffled into the palm of James' hand that he had alertly pressed on her mouth.

"A wise person would know when to keep silent", he advised her sharply to keep up appearances. Judith was horrified when she saw how close she had been to sabotage her own rescue and quickly nodded. Then James removed his hand and went on, "But as you will hardly ever manage to keep your big mouth shut, just go on calling me names. I don't mind. After all we went through by now, I shall know what to think of it. Do you understand? Nothing you might say, could affect me now."

The sound of horses' hooves could be heard and James knew it was time to leave.

Without any further word to Judith, he hurried off.

His departure was attended by the requested insults of Judith: "If that is the case, you had better go with your comrades now! You've been asking for it, so hear my words and I hope you get me loud and clear: I now see what a fine friend you are! Really a fine one! You Bastard! Your love might fill an ocean? My eye! There's no danger of drowning! Your love is as shallow as a pool." Judith was crying. It made her statements quite believable as her voice was shaking. But in fact she cried because she was forced to yell such nasty things at James whereas she would have liked to tell him quite the opposite. She knew that he knew it was part of the game, still it made her feel horrible. Wracked with sobs, she called a last 'goodbye' in the darkness: "To hell with you, James Wilkins!"

James Wilkins smiled as he was relieved to find Judith playing along convincingly. Her fit of emotion couldn't have pleased him any better.

„I've hardly ever heard kinder words of farewell," Tavington teased. With an unconcealed smirk on his face, he turned to Captain Wilkins, who had finally caught up with him to head the troop. "Apparently, she's really not all too much into you. Telling from her muffled noises, you've finally stolen the long overdue kiss from her. No wonder she's spitting venom now. Very well. After all you had to take from her, I understand you were in need of it. But be warned", Tavington's tone changed abruptly into menacing severity, "in the future I won't allow any further approaches of that kind. And just in case your common sense has not yet made you aware of it, I tell you this: From now on she's none of your business any more. Are we clear?"

"I take it that you want me to acknowledge the new state of affairs when we return?"

"Exactly, Captain. And that without 'ifs' or 'buts'."

"You need not worry, Sir." Around the corner of James' mouth played a well guarded sneer.

"Very well." Tavington accepted briefly Wilkins' consent and returned to his elated way of holding James in derision: "It's a pity for the ink you wasted to write all those letters to her. In the future, you ought to save it for someone who is more fond of your charms."

"What for the ink?" James Wilkins assumed an air of indifference and shrugged his shoulders. "I believe there is another task now!"

To him it were the sweetest things Judith had ever said to him.

* * *

When the Dragoons returned several tiring and battle-filled hours later, they had half a dozen captives in tow. A success that lost it's glory at the very moment when it turned out that Judith wasn't there any more.

„I say! The dragonfly is airborne then!" Tavington pressed through gritted teeth, barely moving his lips as they were frozen with anger like the rest of his face. He dismounted in a rage and headed to the place where they had left Judith. All that had remained there were discarded fetters, which were correctly knotted, but almost derisively clear cut through.

"How is that possible, Captain?" He shoved the rope under James' nose. „I think you have to do some explanation!"

"What do you mean?" James gave himself the air of being just as ignorant as innocent. "As you can see, my knots are without fail. Obviously, someone must have cut the rope while we were away and enabled her to escape. Maybe one of the rebels, I assume."

"A rebel you say?" Tavington suspiciously raised one brow, clearly displaying his disbelief in his words. To him it was clear who hat cut the rope. Indeed it was a rebel, a newborn rebel among their own lines. "Yes, Captain Wilkins, that may well be. Most probably it was someone of that insurgent rabble. Someone who thinks himself very smart. Unfortunately, a cut rope will hardly give reliable evidence, but in fact it looks like the mean doing of a filthy colonial!"

For a moment of baleful silence, the two men stood face to face. Colonel Tavington cast such piercing glare at his inferior, that James could almost feel the stab.

What infuriated Tavington even more than the fact that James Wilkins had tricked him, was his own failure to smell the rat any earlier. Now, he could not easily lay hand on him, after all he was a British soldier. Even if Tavington could have proved that Wilkins was being guilty of freeing a captive, he could not well formally accuse the Captain of treason. Tavington knew he would get himself into serious trouble, as he could not come up with any good reasons why he had taken hold of that woman at all. After all, she had been his personal captive.

Pearls of cold sweat betrayed James Wilkins panicking under the scrutiny of Colonel Tavington. He couldn't keep himself from reaching for his dagger as he succumbed to the urge to make sure that there weren't left any traces on it, which might betray him and his deed.

Tavington had followed James movement and now focused on the weapon, too. "Anything wrong with your dagger, Captain?"

Suddenly the dagger felt like live coals to James. Withdrawing his hand, he nervously cleared his throat, "No, Sir, everything is just fine!"

"Amazing, how heavily an otherwise light item can weigh on a man at times, wouldn't you say?"

"Excuse me, Sir, what was your order?" James tried to evade from the tricky situation.

Reluctantly, Tavington had to admit that he had no legal handle on James Wilkins at the moment, but at least he wanted to banish him from his eyes. "Take the captives to Ford Carolina. With my best regards to General Cornwallis and his two-legged lap-dog. Let's see if that gentle-sissy of a Brigadier General can get anything out of them."

In his momentary fury, Tavington didn't make any attempt to hide his distaste for O'Hara as well as for the order of Cornwallis' to give quarter to surrendering soldiers instead of sending them to hell. That those highly insubordinate remarks remained within the Green Dragoons, went without saying. Some of the men shared his view and the others didn't even think of denouncing their superior. "Probably he will be more successful by using honourable methods. I doubt it! However it may be, I will look for that girl…"

"But, Sir, in all probability, it's a couple of hours ago that she escaped. She could be anywhere by now. And in addition to this she knows her way around here way better than you. She's grown up here, perhaps it would be more effective if I …"

"_You_ just follow my order, Captain!" Tavington furiously barked at Wilkins.

The both of them eyed each other closely. James could clearly feel the Colonel's silent accusation of aiding and abetting Judith's flight and thought it wiser not to tempt him any further.

"Yes, Sir!" James obediently set about to comply with his order and turned to head off.

"Captain Wilkins?" Tavington detained James from parting all too swiftly.

"Yes, Sir?"

„Be sure to have every reason to take good care!" Tavington advised sinisterly and both men knew he was not referring to the transport of the captives.

With that being said, Colonel William Tavington wasted no further time. He didn't wait for the troop to part. James Wilkins could observe the Colonel rushing away, vanishing into the rosy dawn of early daybreak and he was left wondering whether Tavington had a distinct idea where to find Judith.


	15. The Funeral

_A/N Hi everyone. I know it's been quite a while that I've updated this. I would understand if some of you have cast this story to the winds. I myself was close to chuck it up. So many unsolved issues. But then there were those of you who finally lent me a hand to get by. Thanks a lot for your wonderful reviews, encouragement, suggestions and criticism. And even though, I don't know how long it will take me to do the next chapter, I've promised myself to write the story to the end. Please, bear with me. Mona_

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 15 – The Funeral

Judith awoke with a jolt. A crashing noise had frightened her out of a much deserved yet little refreshing sleep. At first she didn't know where she was as she found herself lying on her stomach in a heap of hay. The sudden sound had been made by a slamming door. She strained to her and to her utter dismay she realized that she wasn't alone in this room. She froze in the hay and did not dare to budge.

Her breath and heart raced as she heard the sounds of hooves slowly drawing nearer the place where she was hidden. Perhaps she was not hidden well enough. It was too late to check upon her camouflage that consisted only of a simple layer of hay. Perhaps if she was lucky and remained silent the unknown intruder would not discover her. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath in anxious anticipation. But the sounds continued straight in her direction.

Judith was paralysed with fear. Her terrified mind left no doubt about who the invader would be. Her neck grew stiff and hot as she imagined a certain pair of cold eyes starring wickedly down on her. Despite the impending danger Judith stayed put and tried to keep her breath as even as possible. Then suddenly she felt someone nudging her feet. In a wild panic she swirled round and with fearfully widened eyes gazed at the stranger who towered above her.

"Erasmus?!" Her voice was a mixture of terror, accusation and disbelief. The tranquil farm-horse snorted softly. Judith heaved a sigh of relief. "Good Lord, you scared me to death, old boy", Judith reproved him gently, now utterly glad to be waken by the animal rather than to find herself again in the presence of the human beast of a British Colonel.

She sat herself upright and took some deep breaths to calm down. Judith couldn't say how long she'd been sleeping. It might have been some minutes or a couple of hours since she had surrendered to sleep. Judith still felt utterly exhausted and realized that she had lost all sense of time. She held her head as it reeled from the sudden awakening as well as from the returning memory of all that had happened only a day ago.

Gradually she realized where she was and how she had gotten here. When the dragoons had parted last night they had left Erasmus along with her back at the camp. As soon as Judith had believed them far enough away she had taken the horse to speed up her flight. Now she was back at Sarah's farm, the very place of dread and sorrow, to where Erasmus had brought her when she had told him, overwhelmed by exhaustion and weariness, to carry her home.

The animal couldn't be blamed for it. To Erasmus, home was no other than this place. However, once arrived here, Judith had been too tired to tell Erasmus to bring her anywhere else. She had been thankful for a rest no matter what the circumstances. Now, of course, it felt creepy to know that Sarah's corpse must still be lying amidst the ruins of her grange. It was truly the most inhospitable place to take a nap. Judith felt ashamed for her deplorable lack of delicacy. How could she have assumed to find rest with her dead friend still lying in the yard? Decorum would have demanded to look after Sarah first. Instead Judith had selfishly yielded to her own base mortal desire to take a rest. She felt miserable.

Consumed by self-reproach, Judith suddenly shook with horror as once again the barn gate slammed shut. Perfectly convinced to find Colonel Tavington being the reason for the second bang, her heart almost missed a beat when Judith gazed frightfully at the entrance.

There was nothing but thin air and a still slightly swinging door.

Judith leapt up and rushed to the entrance to fix the gate wings so that they would no longer produce that unnerving noise. Apparently, wind had made the gates move.

Wind!

That damned capricious natural force. Invisible and volatile, it kept afflicting her wherever she went. Whenever fate had played its nasty tricks on her, the most fickle of all elements had been involved. With one exception: Yesterday she had learned that human wilfulness was perfectly capable of bringing forth similar atrocity. The murder of Sarah was the heinous deed of one man. However, both man and element seemed to be equipped with the same erratic powers and Judith found it hard to say which one she feared the most. Therefore she had no courage to take a peep in the yard in order to verify her suspicion that wind was the malefactor. She was too scared to try and spot any unwelcome visitor out there.

Breathing hard with anxiety, she turned her gaze back to the inside of the building. The sight that presented itself to her did nothing to ease her mind, though. The remnants of her bloomers lay ripped and torn on the ground, stained with blood as they were painful reminders of her lost virtue, innocence and pride. Finally it burst upon her that she had just locked herself in the place of her utmost terror. Judith felt sick. She needed to get out of here. But what if someone would await her in the yard?

Her eyes wildly searched the inside now, hoping to find another way out. Alas, there was no further door or window. She was trapped. It was the tragic irony of destiny that her gaze fell on a spade not far from the place where Tavington had cornered her. If she had only spotted it then she might have had at least a small chance to defend herself. Now her discovery had come much too late.

Nonetheless, she hurried over to the spade and grasped it at the handle. She had once stepped out of this barn, weak and vulnerable. She wouldn't give anybody an easy chance to hurt her once more. She returned to the gate and slowly unlocked it, now shyly peering through the small crack. Last time she'd walked this way, a great many of glances had been cast on her. Judith was terrified at the thought to find the same situation presenting itself to her again. She gripped the handle as tightly as possible. No, they wouldn't find that same helpless woman. Whoever meant to harm her wouldn't win this easily again.

Judith was not yet ready to go, when Erasmus suddenly made the decision for her. At a trot, he unexpectedly approached from behind and pushed past her, making his way purposefully out of the barn. Too fast to be stopped, the gate flung open and Judith shrieked as she found herself all of a sudden without shelter. She raised the spade awkwardly, cutting a rather poor figure as she wielded the tool more like a shield than like a weapon.

Luckily for her, there was not a soul that needed to be fought off.

With the slow realization that she was in no immediate danger, Judith let the spade sink and steadied herself on it. It was only then that she was able to actually take a closer look at the depressing scenery surrounding her.

Dim early morning sun feebly illuminated the black framework of the once homely and tidy farmhouse. A layer of haze still covered the ground almost as if someone had forgotten to sweep the yard. The misty carpet made everything appear in an eerily unreal light. Judith felt like gazing at a bizarre charcoal drawing as colors seemed still to be asleep.

For a moment, Judith was tempted to believe that nature must feel her grief, too, as time seemed to stop in contemplation of the dreadful losses. But then, on second glance, she saw that time of course did never stop. Here where only yesterday an existence had been erased, right here a new day was rising, sun and dew bringing their everlasting refreshment to even the most devastated place, spreading a first thin sheet of oblivion over it. Perhaps it should have given her some comfort, but in fact it hurt. Life knew no sympathy. Life wasn't sentimental neither was it cruel. People were. Life wasn't emotional. Life was simply going on.

Erasmus neighed and pawed into the bleak silence until he'd got Judith's undivided attention, preventing her from becoming a part of this chilling artwork which excelled by its saddening grace.

Judith had turned her head and now saw the horse standing at the well, asking her to be given some water.

"Yes", she sighed. "You're right. There's no good in pondering what cannot be unmade. Naturally I see your need. I'm coming."

She took the spade and went over to Erasmus, who impatiently waited for her to help him to quench his thirst. Judith leaned the spade against the well and got to work. It was such a familiar act to let down the bucket and pull up some water that Judith did not yet see the bitter irony in it. Only when she held the filled wet bucket in her hands, the crying shame of this simple fact became fully clear to her. The water seemed to twinkle at her with derision as the rays of morning light were refracted on its surface. Appalled, she nearly let the bucket drop. Only with difficulty Judith managed to put it down before Erasmus, trying hard not to spill the contents.

With the horse scantily tended, Judith backed against the well, reeling with what she only just realized. Rescue had been there all the time. The things that might have brought salvation, that could have helped to extinguish the fire, had been there all along. Was it just coincidence or had it happened on purpose as another cruelty of the British colonel? The well was in best order, the bucket still unscathed. Judith couldn't help thinking that it was just like Tavington to make such fatal mockery of his enemies.

It was a slap to the face of everyone who would come to this place finding death and destruction along with a chaffing water bucket: _Where have you been? You could have helped. It's all too late now!_

Judith stepped further back and jostled against the spade that it fell down with a thud. It stung her. Another of those carelessly wasted chances.

She bent down to pick it up when suddenly something made her blood freeze. Out of the corner of her eyes she had noticed an obscure motion where she would have expected it the least. Deliberately or not, Judith had not yet taken a look in the direction of her dead friend Sarah. Now, she could no longer pretend to overlook her as the movement couldn't be ignored. She turned her head and was repelled by what she saw.

Two crows had placed themselves on Sarah, obviously considering her to be a possible meal as they were testing her curiously with their beaks. Not thinking twice, Judith grabbed the spade and raced to her friend's side.

"Go away! Leave her alone, will you!" she yelled. Determined to shoo the crows away, Judith furiously swung the spade at them, really meaning to strike. Of course, her attempt was futile as the birds instantly soared up with resounding croaks of protest. Even more horrible as the birds' croaking was the sensation that flooded through Judith's arms when the spade made impact with the dead body. Instead of the crows, Judith had hit Sarah at the shoulder.

Judith shrieked and let the handle drop. To someone who would have watched that scene from afar it must look like she had just killed her. Shocked at her own thoughtless action Judith stared at Sarah and stammered: "Forgive me, Sarah. I didn't mean to strike you. I just meant well."

The sentence almost chocked in her throat. She might have meant well, yet both now and the day before, her interference had only made things worse. Judith had to face it. Even though she had not shot Sarah, Judith had to recognize that her impulsive behavior had tempted Tavington to do his worst. She had chosen to be guided by her passionate feelings when level-headedness would have been so much more appropriate. She had carried on far too much with her defiance. Sarah might probably have been better off without her glorious assistance. Judith felt answerable. She felt a terrible sense of guilt flood her. Strictly speaking, a distant spectator would just be right to assume she had killed Sarah.

Judith gazed imploringly at the ashen expression of her friend and finally understood that she would never hear a word of remission from Sarah.

Her friend had crossed the threshold to a world where Judith could not follow. Sarah looked so strange to her. Her pale skin and waxen features had little in common with the woman Judith had once loved so dearly.

Sarah had changed the track. It was so bewildering to see the stark reality of her remaining mortal shell, when the light within that had animated it had been extinguished. In Judith's mind Sarah was quite vivaciously present, and yet she was infinitely far out of reach. Judith doubted she would ever get accustomed to it. Somehow, Sarah's spirit seemed to be still around, but never would she give another indication of her presence. Judith missed her bitterly. Sarah had often been a great help to get her soaring thoughts in order as she was the perfect counterpart to Judith's intellectual world. Sarah had always been the reliable anchor whenever Judith had been in danger to get lost in her flights of fancy and all too ambitious ideas. Sarah had always been so agreeably practical-minded. The idea that her own volatile spirit of all things had taken Sarah's life, preyed upon Judith's mind.

"I am sorry Sarah, I'm dreadful sorry", she whispered and gently touched Sarah as she had done it often before whenever a hug of comfort had been necessary. But Sarah was strangely cold. It reminded Judith grossly of the appalling certainty: no call or cuddle would bring Sarah ever back to life. From now on they would walk on different sides of the road.

Judith couldn't hold back any longer. Too heavily lay the weight of failure and guilt on her shoulders. She was shaken by a crying fit. Down on her knees, Judith sobbed and wept without restraint until not a single further tear would fall from her eyes. When there was no power left to even heave a weak moan, Judith remained completely still next to Sarah.

After a long pause of mournful quiet flashes of memory mingled with the great emptiness in Judith's mind. Like sidelights various moments of her acquaintance and friendship with Sarah were passing by. There had been many times of cheer and laughter, but also moments when they had shared their sorrows and fears. Sarah and she had not always held the same points of view, but their friendship had been strong enough to endure those differences. Judith remembered the feeling of burning jealousy of Michael, when he had started to court Sarah. She had had a hard time to accept that Sarah spent more and more time with him. What a foolish attitude. Now she hoped the two of them had made ample use of their time together.

As time passed Judith began to slowly return form her stupor of grief to feel more alive again. Her stomach rumbled, her eyes burned and her mouth was dry. There was no denying that she was still among the living.

Judith struggled to her feet intending to get some refreshment, when her gaze fell on Sarah and the spade next to her. Judith suddenly understood that nothing ever happened in vain. She clearly felt it was for a reason that she had been taken here of all places. There was one last favor she owed to her best friend: Sarah needed to be buried. Maybe the spade had never been meant to defend herself. Maybe it served just one purpose she only saw now: There was nothing else to do but to dig Sarah's grave with it.

Judith had never been obliged to do a thing like that. She had suffered grievous losses before, but never had she felt herself so much in charge. This time it was up to no one else but her to take care of all necessities to actually lay the deceased to rest. And although Judith doubted that she would be able to summon the strength to perform this task, she knew perfectly well that it was the only way to go. Years ago, she'd been cheated out of the chance to actually bury her own parents and it hadn't helped to go out of mourning. Mourning needed a place.

Allowing herself no further melancholy, Judith went to work.

Soon she found that digging a hole into the dry soil was even more trying and time-consuming than she had suspected. The quickly rising sun did nothing to lighten her strain. Not long and the fabric of her dress was soaked with sweat. Some seams had come apart again and made her look like a frayed scarecrow. Her face itched with a mixture of sweat and dust. Judith pushed a few strands of her dishevelled hair from her forehead when suddenly the chilly hand of fear reached for her.

An alarming uneasiness had taken hold of Judith. She had the distinct feeling of being watched. In the manner of an encircled fawn her gaze wheeled round, anxious to spot her hunter. If Colonel Tavington had been anything serious in his intend to take her along with him, he would not rest until he had tracked her down. Supposing it to be true, he might leap into view any moment. Eventually she found that her sixth sense had not deceived her.

Judith discovered the observer. The two crows had taken their stand on the roof of the barn, making the building truly look like a haunted place. Considering themselves at a safe distance, they were still waiting for their chance to have another go at Sarah. Perched on the ridge, they followed attentively Judith's doings. It was as if evil itself had sent them to spy on her.

Judith picked up a stone and threw it at them.

"Off with you, I said!" she shouted, "Leave her alone!" When the first stone missed its aim, Judith took a second and a third, just as many as were necessary to drive the crows away. "Be sure to stay away from here or I'll have you for lunch!" she threatened at the fleeing animals. The scarecrow had served its purpose, the birds had gone.

The awkward feeling, however, was still present. Of course, Judith knew perfectly well that the crows hadn't been sent by anyone to ferret her out, still the incident had made her aware of the fact that in all probability her time here was limited. With an obsessed colonel on her tracks, it was madness to stay overly long in this place. If Tavington was after her, the farm was certainly on his list. She'd better hurry.

Judith forbade herself to waste any more time by losing herself in conjectures and worries and continued her work with requisite dispatch.

Digging Sarah's grave was still the same hard work as it had been before. But now the matter had become urgent. Time was a factor. Judith did her utmost to progress in her endeavour. The pressure of time gave fresh impetus to her. Where desperation and fear had slowed her efforts down, anger and hatred sustained her driving force. With every cut of the spade, Judith gave a blow to Colonel Tavington. It was quite relieving to vent her rage. "Take this and that! Bastard!" Judith began to lash out. „Monster!" „Brute!" „To hell with you!" were only some of the smaller insults and curses she had in store for him. Raving and swearing, Judith found the power to accomplish her mission.

Finally she stood in front of a simple mound. The only adornment was a small bunch of wild flowers that was beginning to wilt in the sun. Judith needed a moment to collect herself, before she was able to speak.

"Please, Sarah, forgive me. This is in no way, form or shape the proper funeral you should have had. Not to mention that there shouldn't have been any need to bury you at all. I am no preacher and I don't know how to correctly choose my words standing here at your grave. I am just your friend and thus, I will try to do the best I can.

First of all, I feel I should beg your and Our dear Lord's pardon for having been using such rude and unchristian words while digging your grave. I'm sorry that I didn't manage to be more composed. You see, I am just so angry that you had had to become a victim of injustice, an innocent victim of the wilfulness of a man, of this brute who thinks himself so much better for wearing his red coat of oppression and shame. He's so vain, he believes in the terrible notion that he's allowed to play other people's lives and destinies just the way he fancies, only because he's issued the title of a Colonel in the King's army. But he's by far not as infallible as he thinks. He had no right to do what he did. There's nothing that would justify his actions. Neither your death nor my…" Judith broke down in her speech.

She simply couldn't put his indecent assault on her down in words. Instead she caught herself wishing she could have traded places with her dead friend and envied Sarah that Tavington had done no more than kill her. Judith heaved a sigh of remorse as she knew it was sin to think that way. And although she could hold back the words, she couldn't fight her thoughts.

"Oh, I swear, I would slay him with that spade here, if only he was near right now!"

A cracking sound interrupted her diatribe. Judith whipped around, staring in the direction where the noise had come from. With bated breath she searched the edge of the nearby grove. But she couldn't make out anything suspicious or strange which wouldn't have belonged there. There only were the couple of crows soaring up from where the noise had occurred.

All the better. The shadows were retreating at last. Judith breathed again and realized that she had been again on her way to curse the British Colonel. Now it appeared to her that the birds had prevented her from doing so and had reminded her of the fact that she was actually asking forgiveness for her lack of self-control at Sarah's grave. Judith followed the crows with her eyes until they were out of sight and everything around her had fallen silent again.

"Excuse me", she continued, "I'm truly sorry for this and I promise to change for the better." Once again she had to stop as she choked with mourning. She bit her lower lip and tears were freely flowing down her face, dropping down unhindered on the loose, fresh earth of the small grave-mound.

It took her an almost eternal moment to steady herself for speaking up again.

"I remember father teaching me that everything on earth has its purpose. When I was younger it made me feel so sad every time autumn came. I'm not saying it is comparable in any way with what I feel now, but with the flowers losing their colour, the trees losing their leaves, the sun losing its power and the days losing their length I felt like losing myself in that season. And I just couldn't understand why it had to be this way.

But father said it was a good thing. He explained to me that nature needed this break. Every flower, every leaf that was falling on the ground, fading and rotting, would be the source of nourishment for the next generation, which would return in spring. And he went on explaining that it was the same thing with human beings. When one's time on earth was over, we would have to go and make place for the next. There is not a single thing we could do against it and there would be no exception to that rule. And I will admit that it always gave me some comfort when old people died.

But I fail to see any sense in your death. Not to mention you've taken your baby, the next generation, with you. Your autumn has come way too early and this will be the most wintry summer ever.

I know, I shouldn't feel this way, I almost can hear father's voice censuring me. He always told me that we were not supposed to understand the ways of the Lord, we were only supposed to follow His Commandments and submit to His will. But I just cannot accept your death! I refuse to believe it was the Lord's will. It was the crime of one man.

Still, one thing is true: I have no means to undo what has happened. I only can do what is left to do, pray for your soul and pay you the last honours. And I hope I did it well." Judith had finished her sermon with a croaking voice.

A soft gust of wind made the leaves rustle, sending an icy shiver down Judith's spine. She couldn't fight the eerie feeling Colonel Tavington was already close and wind was his vanguard. Apprehensively, she gazed around but found that everything had fallen tranquil again. It had only been a gentle breeze, still to her troubled mind it appeared to be the lull before the storm.

Judith needed to clear her throat before she was able to go on. She steadied her trembling fingers by folding her hands firmly, searching to find comfort and shelter in the Lord's prayer.

"Our Father, which art in Heaven,

Hallowed be thy Name,

Thy Kingdom come…"

_And not King George's! Since the British army had arrived and taken the offensive in the colonies, things hadn't changed for the better. Hatred spread through her. Judith had never experienced such heartfelt aversion against anything or anybody when saying a prayer. Slight doubts began to make themselves heard. What did she think would the Lord's Kingdom be like? What if the redcoats had His blessing, if they were His passive agents? Wasn't the King enthroned by the mercy of the Lord? Taking this for granted, who was she or any other colonial to query the King's rights? Maybe this was a trial of her faith in God and she was just about to fail._

"Thy will be done..."

_Was it really the Lord's will that Sarah had to die? And if so, Judith didn't appreciate it. More so, she had tried with might and main to defeat His plan. The burden was increasing._

„On Earth…"

_Her cheerless gaze fell on the grave-mound where she spotted something shimmering greenish blue. It was a dragonfly of all animals, embellishing the grave like a delicate jewel. Judith remembered only too well the callous way in which Tavington had destroyed one and that beauty and fragility were no protection. 'Fly away as long as you can. Doom's close and already lurks for you', she gave silent advice to the insect, way deep down fearing that the same might apply pretty much to herself._

„…as it is in Heaven."

_And indeed, the dragonfly spread its wings and soared up to the sky. To Judith it was as if this dragonfly took Sarah's soul along to deliver it in heaven. Sarah had escaped Tavington. He had taken her life but he had not taken her soul. Sarah had remained blameless, humble and faithful, and she would now be welcomed by the heavenly host. Hopefully._

„...Give Us this day Our Daily bread…"

_Disgusted, Judith remembered Tavington using this term when the soldiers had set about Sarah's stock of eatables. However, there was no denying that the Lord had cared quite well for the dragoons. As matters stood, Judith on her part could not well expect to be fed by the graces of the Father in Heaven as well, since the dragoons had destroyed everything they had not confiscated. What was she supposed to read in this?_

"…And Forgive us our trespasses…"

_Her feelings of guilt returned with a vengeance. It wasn't like asking forgiveness for some minor girlish offences like envy at a new dress, white lies or wishful thoughts. Those were insignificant vanities compared to what she had done yesterday. Her excessive pride had led her to play with the fire. Pride was a deathly sin! People had always warned her that this improper notion to speak her mind would be her undoing yet. That she had acted with the best intentions, could not outweigh the damage it had caused. Her brashness had pushed Sarah into the abyss of death. She had done nothing to actually help her neighbour. She had foolishly played into the Devil's hands. _

"…As We forgive those…" _She couldn't help seeing Tavington appear before her mental eye,_ "…who trespass against us…"

_Judith was not exactly unforgiving. She could easily forgive things like insulting remarks, made out of jealousy or ignorance, she could forgive James having his affair with Elisabeth, she could even forgive Lieutenant Adams enjoying his meal. But there was no way she would ever forgive Tavington any of his deeds. As a consequence, she wouldn't be forgiven neither. It dawned upon her that she wasn't even half as pious as she had always believed to be. Judith felt a lump in her throat._

"…And lead Us not into temptation…"

_Judith had made the acquaintance of that sensual woman secretly dwelling within her all the years and felt the irresistible desire to learn more about her. She recalled the thrill of Tavington's touches and kisses. In spite of all cruelty and ruthlessness, Judith had also seen the attractive facets of his being. Even in the sallow light of memory his eyes were of outstanding brilliance. No woman who had once been mirrored in the scintillating windows to the unfathomable depths of his soul would ever be able to forget their blazing chill. Judith had tasted temptation and the Lord knew she had succumbed to it. _

_No shelter, no comfort was coming from those lines. Her once so perfect world threatened to fall to pieces. The scaffold of creed and virtues had already crumbled away. Confusion was gaining ground. Who was right? Who was wrong? Judith couldn't say for sure any more. Still one thing was certain, wherever vice had begun to spread roots, she wanted to get rid of it and so she laid all her dislike and disgust into the next line as she demanded rather than prayed, _

"…But deliver Us from Evil!"

„Amen!" stated a cold voice, finishing the prayer in Judith's stead.


	16. Do or Die

_A/N: Before posting this, I've re-read all your wonderful reviews and now I feel utterly guilty to have been keeping you waiting for sooo long. 7 pages in 7 months :-( - it wasn't on purpose. What a luck that I do not write for a living; it would be my ruin :-)_

_A huge THANKS to everyone who sent me a note in the meantime: request for a new chapter, lines of encouragement or actual help to get over the rough points. I appreciated each of them as it is really great to learn that some people are bearing with me. I'm happy to have so patient, kind and gentle readers - you are fabulous! (Thanks for the constructive criticism, the chapter is edited according to your suggestions now.)_

Chapter 16 – Do or Die

Judith spun round and saw the devil in the flesh: Colonel Tavington!

His regal red uniform jacket was shining brightly in all its bloody glory under the sun.

"What a moving funeral oration…," he mocked her, not failing to applaud with his pitch-black gloved hands in a provocative, haughty manner. However, the derisory amusement wasn't more than a thin cloth he'd thrown over his smoldering anger.

His rash departure this early morning had resulted from a frenzy. So many things had stirred his rage. The bold escape of that woman, a disloyal Captain under his command, the farce the two of them had been playing and his own inability to see through it. Incensed from head to toe, he had put spurs to his horse without so much as actually considering the point and purpose of such hot-headed pursuit.

When he had realized after a few miles at breakneck speed that he had started all too quickly giving chase to Judith, it was too late to let up on this current endeavor. His pride and vanity forbade him to return with empty hands, he simply had to find that woman. He would not allow her to disgrace him, instead he would make her pay for each and every yard of this impudent flight.

However as strong his feelings of vengeance may have been, Tavington was realistic enough to see that there were of course some powerful arguments in favor of abandoning his highly risky undertaking. When his rage began to cool, Tavington had to concede that in all probability James Wilkins had been right and that he was on the lookout for a needle in a haystack. On the other hand, Tavington knew perfectly well that his instincts had hardly ever failed him. He was positive that this time around he could again rely on them.

Still, he'd called himself a fool for having ventured to hunt for her on his own. At least he should have taken a second man along. Instead he had given way to his impulsiveness when he had thoughtlessly discarded even the most basic and simple military rules. It was just as hazardous to move alone on these grounds as it was inexcusable to leave his men behind without lead and command. If he shouldn't make it back to the troop before they reached Fort Carolina, it would be grist to the mill of General O'Hara. Tavington couldn't stand O'Hara and knew that the feeling was mutual. O'Hara begrudged him His Lordship's special favor and he would never miss a chance to attempt to discredit him. Unfortunately, this time Tavington would have precious little to hold against it.

Damn it! This woman had caused nothing but trouble so far. He wondered why he had not killed her when he had had the occasion. But then again: No - he had had good reason to keep her alive.

His triumph at finally having traced her out overweighed his wrath for a fleeting moment. Tavington cast a devilish smirk at Judith, while his eyes were still speaking the unconcealed language of rampant fury.

Judith felt as if she had turned into Sarah's tombstone. She only stood there, petrified with fear, and could do nothing but stare at the Colonel's sudden appearance. Incredulously, Judith followed the movements of Tavington's lips when he went on, "I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed in you, Madam. I thought we were clear on the point that every attempt to flee from me would be futile."

While speaking, Tavington slowly approached her. His footsteps made a crunching noise on the ground of the yard. A noise that gave Judith a horrible reminder of his destructive powers.

"No, Sir. Stay away from me!" Judith stretched out her hands in a defensive manner. "Stop moving! Stay where you are!" Judith reeled off the words like she was trying to hit the right incantation to keep Tavington in distance.

"Infernally stupid of you to return to the farm", Tavington continued in an appallingly calm voice, completely ignoring her stammering. "In fact, this was the first place where I went to search for you." Disapprovingly, he shook his head. "I thought you cleverer."

The more Colonel Tavington closed in on her, the more Judith felt doomed. Terrified, she stood rooted to the spot, while her gaze frantically ranged the yard for possible ways of escape until it finally fell on the spade next to her. She remembered with a shock the oath of ire she'd given not long ago and felt strongly obliged to stick to it. Without a moment's hesitation, she reached for the spade and turned its end up in the air, ready to use it as a weapon.

"I did not come here to hide from you, nor do I now!" Judith let him know, mustering up a firm and unafraid voice that stood in flagrant contradiction to her shaky state of mind.

"Oh, come on, use your sense, woman," Tavington commented now rather amused upon her reaction, "Can't you see? That's ridiculous. You will not seriously want to fight me with this spade, will you?"

"You bet!"

_Good Lord! What a mule of a woman! _Annoyed, Tavington rolled his eyes. Did she not see that her resistance was just a waste of both her and his time? When he noticed that Judith was truly far from giving in, he changed his tone and went on in a grave voice: "You must either be very desperate or very foolish. In any case I advise you to lay it down."

Judith still showed herself only little impressed by his stern face.

"I would even throw the holy Bible after you as long as there is the tiniest chance to cause you trouble!" she declared with grim resoluteness as she considered it to be a fierce threat.

"Oh, yes," Tavington couldn't hold back a chuckle. "And in case I was the Fiend this might probably help a lot!" he agreed with serenity. "But since I'm not…" his expression darkened from one second to the other and he continued with utterly serious voice, "…you'd be better off if you surrender."

As an answer, Judith tightened her grip on the wooden handle.

"This is my last warning, Madam. You know there is no point in this. You really should know what happens when you oppose my orders. So, don't make it worse. Be sensible and lay… it… down!"

A last chance for Judith to refrain from a conflict of unequal opponents elapsed.

Tavington drew his saber and took position. The rattling sound let Judith's blood freeze. The blade looked suddenly so much more alarming to her than it had seemed to be by the time it had nicely been lodged in the sheath. She had never been aware of how long this weapon really was. And apparently he no doubt was pretty versed with it. The dried blood of his last victim still stuck to it and clearly proved the deathliness of its touch. But her decision was set. She would fight: It was do or die now!

Disquietingly, that was all she had in the way of a plan.

Tavington on his part had eventually shed the threadbare coat of mockery. Along with the saber he had unsheathed another equally lethal weapon, his boundless unrestrained wrath.

Anxiously, Judith made an effort to back away from him. Without really wanting to, she stepped on the fresh elevation behind her and found that she literally was on the brink of the grave. Judith shuddered and forced herself to keep her head. Unlike yesterday, she wasn't completely exposed. The spade may not have been the best choice of defense, but at the very least is was something to actually hold out to the Colonel. Odd to say that she felt much more vulnerable, though. Last time she had had no chance, now it all depended on her whether she would benefit from the means at hand. What mattered was that this time it would be her own fault if she didn't.

Tavington left her no time to worry or rethink her decision anyway. With a sudden aggressive shout he stormed towards Judith, well knowing that added to the raised saber in his hand his voice would do a great deal to make her courage sink. Laying all his anger in the stroke, Tavington aimed precisely at the shovel. Before she knew it, she would be disarmed and put back in her place. Her time to bitterly regret her waywardness had just come.

When Tavington's first cut descended heavily on Judith, her arms hurt with burning pain caused by the violent impact of the blade against the spade's handle which she had risen in desperate defense. It gave her a dreadful idea of Tavington's inexorable intent to subdue her.

Still, Judith held fast onto the handle. From a child, she had been taught to consider herself greatly and directly responsible for her fortunes. The shovel in her hand lent force to her iron will not to bow to that man. However alienated from its purpose, at this very moment the shovel represented to her an invaluable implement to maintain her self-determination. She could not afford to give this option away, she owed it to Sarah, she owed it to James, she owed it to herself. If she was to die, she would die with the shovel in her hand.

Had Judith ventured to take a closer look, she might have noticed a streak of astonishment in the colonel's expression at the fact that contrary to all his expectations she was still in possession of the spade. Instead Judith swallowed hard as she stared with horror at the deep nick which the blade had caused on the wooden handle. If he had hit a finger, it would have been chopped off by now.

Still a little confounded himself, the Butcher granted Judith a short moment to let this realization sink in. Having withstood his first attack, did mean nothing, of course! He knew she was weak and no match for him. He would outclass her in every respect. So what risk could it be to retard her defeat? It would only be fair to watch her suffer in return for all the trouble she had caused him. Tavington gave a vigorous push to his saber to disconnect it from the handle that still barred his way. Very well, he would know to extend the act of subjugation just long enough to make sure that Judith would have taken the point once for all that he was not to be fooled.

Judith had barely collected herself when Tavington started to deal a couple of severe cuts at her. Again, his advances got along with forceful, utterly discouraging yells. Unremittingly, he smashed his blade onto the shovel. Ignoring Judith's terrified shrieks, Tavington truly gave her a hard time to parry his quick and well placed strokes. He wanted her to actually feel sorry for having ventured to run away from him.

As expected, Judith defended herself anything but expertly. The shovel wasn't made to fight. Its weighty end made it quite unwieldy for its inappropriate task. Unseasoned as she was, she mainly tried to swerve and sidestep the strokes of the saber rather than to deal some blows herself. To her surprise, she was lightfooted and swift enough to get off with this tactic relatively well in the beginning. Little did she know that the colonel wasn't even fighting at full force.

With ease Tavington directed Judith across the yard, always in control of the action, making her step wherever he wanted to. By doing so, Tavington unexpectedly found that he could not well bring himself to act as ruthlessly as he certainly would have done when fighting a man. It was too absurd to even call this a regular fight. For all his vexation, he was unable to simply hack down on Judith. It just didn't feel right. In the past he had slapped her in the face, he had lashed and abused her, yes, but to cruelly use his saber against a woman seemed strangely out of place, embarrassing even. So he refrained from doing his worst.

Yet he saw fit to give her a sound reminder that he wouldn't take any further insubordination from her. And as pain was a well-tried mean, Tavington wasn't sparing of blows. With cool deliberation, Tavington went ahead with her chastisement in all severity, but did nothing that would incapacitate her for eventual later purposes. It filled him with malicious joy to see her struggling, as every little negligence of her cover got punished right away. He evidenced masterly skill when he cared to make the strokes painful, yet harmless in their basic effect.

Tavington delighted in her ordeal. Soon enough he had inflicted a number of artful saber strokes on her. With the flat side of the blade, Tavington aimed again and again at one particular part of her body. He made a point of spanking her rear, which he knew was a very humiliating way to experience pain. Furthermore, he amused himself by slitting the freshly mended threads open again. It was quite alluring to watch her dress, stressed and strained by the action, slowly falling apart again. All the more as Judith clearly didn't have any chance to do something against it. She was fully occupied to handle the spade. With satisfaction Tavington surveyed how she did her utmost to evade the inevitable.

To Judith, each hit was hurtful and demoralizing. Whimpering and moaning she braved the ruthless sequel of saber cuts as she was lacking the breath to actually scream. Wherever she turned, Tavington was already there to block her way. The blinking blade was everywhere around her. She could hardly follow it with her eyes and acted on instinct alone when doing her best to dodge his blows. In this she was met with decreasing success. The continuous thwacks on her behind really got to her. She even caught herself feeling relief whenever the blade tampered with her dress for a change. Much to Judith's distress the highly unbalanced duel went on and she had to take quite a few serious hits. That was until a mishap threatened to end the unfair skirmish appallingly soon.

Debilitated by the harsh and incessant attacks of Colonel Tavington, Judith couldn't help stumbling backward. As a result her tattered skirt got most unfortunately caught between the ground and her foot. She tried hard to keep her balance, didn't manage and fell. On reflex alone as she tried to cushion the bound, Judith let finally go off the wooden handle only to thud hard on her maltreated bottom.

She gave a yell of anguish. Finding herself lying alongside Sarah's grave now, added immensely on her bad feeling that she was as good as done for. A sudden wave of terror faded the stinging pain out and enabled Judith to go on.

Panic-stricken, Judith started to move backwards, almost crablike, to get out of reach. Her retreat wasn't fast enough, though. Tavington had stepped on one end of the hem and pinned the lappet firmly to the ground, now watching her defenselessness with undisguised satisfaction. The more Judith struggled to get free, the more tension was set to the fabric and Judith heard the rest of the poorly mended tears cracking entirely open.

"See? Your skill at weapon is just as miserable as your clothing", Judith heard Tavington's derisive voice above her, "Never mind! That shovel is not exactly a great loss. Consequently, you could do worse than part from these rags as well, wouldn't you say?"

Not waiting for an answer Tavington took aim at her legs. Judith, who already saw the flashing blade rushing towards her, quickly pulled her legs close to her body. The saber had sliced off a big piece from the skirt.

What the hell had she believed to have let herself in for? The Butcher wouldn't just kill her. He would pluck her alive before she'd be slaughtered piece by piece. She had chosen to die an excruciatingly slow death.

Judith desperately grasped for the spade but couldn't find it. All she could catch hold of was the loose soil of the grave mound next to her.

"I will admit that you have proven to wield a sharp sword when battling with words", Tavington said, quite sure of his victory as he watched her vain attempt to get in possession of the spade again, "It appears that you are considerably less talented in practice, though."

Judith slowly clenched her fist. "Don't count your chickens before they are hatched!" she retorted grimly. Having not yet finished the sentence, Judith flung a fistful of the supposedly useless earth into the Butcher's direction.

Tavington howled when the dirt sprayed across his face. Instantaneously, finer grains of sand were painfully impairing his sight. In haste, he wiped his eyes to get rid of the scratching dirt that was putting him out of action.

When he could see again, Judith was gone. Tavington whipped around and saw that she was taking to her heels, the shovel in her hand visibly impeding her flight. He saw her carrying the shovel along as if it was an irksome ballast rather than a life assurance. _'You just wait! I shall take that burden from you once for all!_' he grimly thought to himself. With a roar of towering rage, Tavington ran after her.

Judith heard him catching up. Knowing for sure he would have closed the gap in no time, she quickly changed her strategy and doubled. Judith made indeed up for a few yards, just enough to bring the well between her and her persecutor.

Its solid walls of stone built an obstacle that took the pace out of their wild chase. The two of them peered at each other, their present form as different as only could be. Judith panted hard from the mad dash. Her sweaty face glistened in the sun. Some strands of her loose hair tangled about her face, causing her reddened cheeks to itch.

Tavington stood in front of her, only kept at distance by the well, and he showed no sign of lacking condition. Unlike Judith, he wasn't short of breath as the impetuous spurt had not impaired his well-trained shape. Still, it was his breath that proved him far from being calm and relaxed. His rage had returned with a vengeance and made him puff and blow like a mad bull.

Judith had seen Tavington angry before, but now a pair of unforgiving eyes were glaring at her out of a dirt-streaked face that made him look like a painted savage. It was as if she looked at a wild creature that thirsted for blood. There didn't seem to be a single human feature in his face as it had turned into the ugly grimace of bare violence. To her utter dismay, she finally understood that she was facing the nastiest opponent of all – Tavington wasn't just brute, he now was wounded.

Colonel Tavington seethed with rage indeed. He almost went berserk when he couldn't help letting off steam. In a mad fit of temper he let his saber shred the air. His furious action got along with yells of rage, vulgar insults and vicious threats at Judith. He didn't even care when he hit the well and Judith saw sparks spraying whenever the metal smashed against the stone walls.

Judith's confidence to get out of the situation unharmed sank with every further clash of the saber. The Butcher was whetting his knife. She was seriously afraid the well might not bear the brunt of Tavington's violent attack. Intuitively, Judith stepped back and frightfully found how weak her knees had gotten.

Despite his blazing rage, Tavington didn't fail to notice Judith's appalled expression along with her shaky retreat. _'Compose yourself William! She's just a frightened, unseasoned woman. You will not damage your saber to defeat her of all the colonials. Just calm down!'_ he ordered himself and instantaneously refrained from thrashing the well. Only because she had shown a most unprofessional defense, it did not mean that he had to turn into a rustic, too.

Once rallied from his tantrum, he eyed her with the refined sobriety of a soldier, closely observing her every motion. It didn't take him much to realize that she hadn't changed. Her poor attempt to defy him by a sand attack had done nothing to shore up her self-confidence. Just like before she was merely reacting. To all appearances, the very sight of him still scared the hell out of her. Very well, at least she had no false expectations about what was to come.

Exposed to his daunting scrutiny, Judith had the eerie feeling that he was scenting her fear, analyzing the exact state of her discouragement, only waiting for the right moment to strike. Seeing his scowl, Judith thought him truly capable of performing a standing jump over the well in order to get to her.

But instead, Tavington slowly stepped to the right and so did Judith, eager to remain on the far opposite side of him. After a few steps Tavington changed directions and continued to the left, Judith promptly following suit. Slowly moving to and fro, the two of them rounded the well in nerve-racking silence; Tavington lurking for a moment of inattention, Judith scrupulously concerned not to miss the critical second to react on his next shift.

Tavington had to hand it to her, she was well on the alert now. She had turned her undivided attention to him and since the well was indeed an annoyingly massive hindrance, there was no way he might carry out any action swift enough to catch her by surprise. The situation was at a deadlock.

Tavington felt his anger flaring up again. "What do you think we're doing here? Playing feints with me like children?" he snarled at Judith. Considering the ridiculous sight of their current occupation, the act of keeping his temper turned more and more into a trial. "It was you who asked for this fight. Let's go for it!" His voice clearly showing an undertone of edginess now. Those various changes of direction hat gotten him nowhere so far. He knew he had to change his tactics.

If he couldn't take advantage of her weakness, he had to take her by her strong side. He knew she was smart and set great store by morality. If he could busy her mind, maybe it would distract her attention. A small moment of inattentiveness might easily turn out to be her undoing. Tavington liked that idea. A wicked smile played around his mouth when he started to challenge Judith.

"Slay me with the spade, will you?" Tavington chaffed. "Very well. It shall not be my fault if you can't keep your promise to a departed. Here I am!" He abandoned his lowering posture, spread his arms and presented himself openly to Judith. "Or does your bravery stop at words? Your friend…", Tavington turned his eyes toward the sky above, "…is most probably watching us right now. What, I wonder, would she think of you?" He gave her a moment to take it in, before he continued almost jovially to invite her: "Let us get this over with, Judith. Here is your chance. Do it. Slay me!"

Judith gaped at him in bewilderment. A sudden flood of thoughts upset her greatly. She did not remember to have him ever heard calling her by her given name before. Judith had got accustomed to the descending manner in which he used the word 'Madam' with her. What was he up to now? This new and most undesired confidential way of addressing her was disconcertingly intimate and made it difficult to remain sober-minded and concentrated.

Also, the mentioning of Sarah was not wasted on her. True, she had given a kind of promise to repay to him. But she had hardly been all too serious about this announcement as it had escaped her in the heat of the moment then. Nonetheless, she felt called to account for it now that he had just brought it home to her. A cold shiver ran down her spine: How long had he been observing her that he knew about it at all? What else might he probably know and hold against her, which she wasn't aware of?

Uneasiness gained room within her. Despite the warmth in his voice, it was like the colonel had sent a chilly gust at her that took her steadfastness and carried it far away.

Tavington could see her mind work. Agitation and doubts stood written in her face. She was due. All of a sudden, Tavington feigned an attack to the left only to quickly change the direction of his advance to the right and had Judith running into his arms right away. Cold-bloodedly, Tavington lunged forward and thrust the saber at her.

Judith shrieked with terror as she saw herself running into the open blade. She felt the cold steel connect against her skin and clearly heard the sickening wet slicing sound of her own flesh, before a stinging pain flashed through her left arm. She cried out loud. The tip of Tavington's saber had caught her at the upper arm. Judith withstood the urge to reach for the wound. More than for the seriousness of that injury she feared for her life which was definitely at stake if she dropped the shovel once again. In the face of pain and fear, Judith made ready to go on.

It egged on Tavington's irritation to no end when he saw her still standing. It had been a close shave for her. He had no more than scratched her! That was enough! Anger and impatience took the better of him now. Tavington saw no longer need to pay heed to her welfare. At the spur of the moment he forgot about his earlier plans. Blind with rage, Tavington went on without care or concern, he just wanted to end this clash – either way.

One last time Tavington raised his saber to strike and Judith saw the blade rushing down on her. She sensed it was too late. Being at the end of her endurance, Judith felt that she would neither be strong nor fast enough to reposition the spade in defense as it lay heavy like lead in her exhausted hands.

"No!" she screamed, her eyes frightfully fixed on the deadly whizzing metal.


	17. Disarmed

Tantrum and Tenderness

Chapter 17 – Disarmed

Judith perceived the horrible sound of the blade as it cut the air only inches above her head. She had had the presence of mind to duck away at the very last moment. When Judith looked up again she saw that she suddenly had the edge on Tavington.

Having missed his aim, Tavington's body had followed his right hand in which he held the saber at full swing, far over to the left. Thus, he involuntarily presented his back to Judith. It was a matter of an instant. Not thinking twice, Judith grasped her chance. She quickly raised the spade and hit Tavington with all her might on his behind.

Tavington yelled with both pain and surprise when he got to feel the result of Judith's unleashed fury. Unable to recover from the powerful impact, he dropped on his knees, falling further forward, until he landed hard on his stomach. His face, too, struck ground, forcing dust and sand up his nose and mouth. It took his breath away and it gave the same dull sound as one of the flour bags at his father's mill when they were unceremoniously put down. And so he felt: dusty and discarded.

Tavington had never seriously reckoned on making contact with the shovel, let alone how hurtful its touch would actually be. Now that he knew, he did not plan on expending his experience of it.

This fight was not over. He wasn't beaten yet. The saber had remained firmly in his grip. Ignoring the aching parts of his body, Tavington grasped the handle and swiftly whirled round to face the impending danger. Eager to make the best of his unfavorable position, he held out the saber to keep Judith at bay. But before he could form any clear estimate of the new situation, Tavington roared with pain again.

This time, his hand had made contact with the shovel. He watched his saber flying through the air, but wasn't able to realize that it was gone. Too strong was the agonizing sensation in his hand. It was an all-consuming pain that made him fear for the worst. He reached for his hand to make sure it was still there. He stared at the gloved part of his body that had turned into a source of excruciating ache and couldn't tell whether it was bleeding, bruised or even broken. Beside the maddening pain there was nothing he could specify.

The unthinkable had just happened. Tavington was wailing and writhing down at Judith's feet. The small farm girl had separated the mighty Butcher from his blade. Seemingly here in the new world everything was possible.

Judith could not deny that it gave her satisfaction to hear him scream and yowl. He no doubt suffered fierce pain and she wholeheartedly granted him all of it. She towered above him, feeling good to be in power and control. Hard feelings of vengeance were new to her, but she delighted in them. For the first time she truly believed someone was deserving of torture. She'd never thought herself capable of hating a person as deeply as she hated him now.

There would hardly ever be a better opportunity to slay him. And yet something was curbing her desire to take her revenge. It was a last small grain of propriety that made her abstain from the temptation to finish him off with the shovel. Not prepared to go to the last extreme, Judith wondered what to do instead. All too soon, her thoughts got interrupted when she suddenly observed Tavington crawling away from her. He obviously was making for his saber. She knew she had to beat him to it at all costs. Also, realizing that a sharp blade would be a much more powerful lever against him, she flung the shovel aside and headed for the saber herself.

Tavington lost the race. He was forced none too gently on his back. To his unpleasant surprise, he found himself at the receiving end of his own saber. Facing this new and most perturbing constellation, a sudden wave of panic made his limbs grow almost numb, causing the throbbing in his hand to die away in an instant. Incredulously he stared at Judith, who was apparently stunned herself to be in the role of the vanquisher. He saw the bewilderment in her expression. He noticed the precariously fidgeting tip of his saber and guessed that Judith must be trembling all over. Tavington wasn't sure what he feared more: to face a soldier who was perfectly capable of killing him right away or to face a disconcerted woman, who was overcharged by the unexpected situation and completely unfamiliar to the proper handling of a saber, which made it rather difficult to foresee her actions. He'd better try and calm her.

"Take care Madam," Tavington said warily, "Be aware that this isn't a toy nor a tool. The blade is pretty sharp. Not that you eventually happen to injure someone."

"Someone?!" Judith gave back pointedly. "I think, as matters stand that would be you, Sir. And believe me, when I do so, it will hardly be by chance."

"Oh, is that really so? I never thought you would sink so low. Have you not paraded your moral superiority to me at every opportunity?"

"I wouldn't count on it!" Judith now placed the top of the saber directly under his chin.

Tavington sharply inhaled and spread his arms in a gesture of surrender. He forced the back of his head even further down to the ground in the futile attempt to gain more space between the blade and his throat. There was no denying: She had conquered him for now. Although he still couldn't imagine her being capable of doing any harm to him, his otherwise self-assured, arrogant sneer had vanished from his face.

William Tavington had to learn that even farmers with pitchforks could easily turn into irksome opponents if only one would let them, all the more when despair and vengefulness came into play. He had Judith given every reason to meditate his demise. But he had failed to properly account for her mightiest weapon – persistency.

Looming over him, she appeared grimly determined to keep him at a distance. But how far would she really go? He loathed it to be at her mercy. This was not the way she ought to treat him. Worst of all, he alone was to blame for his quandary. Damn it! Had he not allowed himself to act upon a moment's lack of self-control, he'd never shown such carelessness as to turn his back toward her. Now he had to pay for it. Damn it all! Tavington wrestled hard to check his wrath. The blade to his throat left no doubt that there was no point in working a new rage.

Alright. He still could get himself out of this mess, but only if his perspicacity was in charge, not his anger. By all means he had to remit his rage. He felt the tip of his saber shifting dangerously close to his gorge. For the moment he was well advised to do anything to soothe her.

"Wo, wo, wo! Gently does it, Madam." Tavington found it most uncomfortable to speak with the keen-edged metal against his skin. Perhaps he had not exactly hit the right tone to appeal to her gentleness for Judith seemed to make no effort to withdraw the saber. He tried again. "Fine. Alright. You've won," he said more respectfully this time, signalizing that he was about to admit defeat. "As you can see, I'm completely defenseless. You surely will spare an injured man, won't you?"

"Let's say, just as you spared my pregnant friend?"

"Please, Madam..." A number of facial muscles twitched nervously, forcing the corners of his mouth into a taut simper. "All I'm asking you is to reconsider."

Judith snorted. "Did you just ask me to have mercy on you, Colonel?"

Tavington froze. His lips were merely thin lines forming a wry smile. It was a fair yet awkward question. Not long ago he had refused to tolerate such a plea. He could not well turn into a petitioner himself on this very matter now. He reflected upon an appropriate response. If he wasn't completely mistaken in her, she would not take advantage of inferiors. She was a decent person. He simply had to make it clear to her.

"I'm just asking you to act upon your creed and conscience," he finally said, his voice all calm and serious. "Do you really wish to retaliate an eye for an eye? Do you have the guts?"

Tavington could see Judith start at that. But she rallied quickly and retorted: "Don't you worry for the peace of my mind, Sir. That's between me and God."

"You're right!" He fully assented without delay. "So, may I suggest that you just leave me out of this. I would be loath to make you commit a deed you would have to regret one day."

To that Judith gave no answer. Tavington saw her eyes flickering wildly. Apparently his words had set her mind in motion. Telling from her afflicted face, Judith was about to make a capital mistake: She, conscientious person that she was, had started to reflect on her actions. Very well, that meant he had found a way to unsettle her. Realizing this, Tavington ventured further forward.

"Excuse me, Madam. You might not perhaps take it into consideration to remove the blade just a little bit? I'd like to sit upright and check upon my hand, if you don't mind."

Judith's sympathy clearly knew bounds. She appeared greatly hesitant whether she should allow him the kind of space he needed in order to sit. She eyed him suspiciously and seemed most reluctant about meeting such a request.

"Please, Madam," Tavington urged her on. "After all you're the one who is holding the weapon. I'm pretty much incapacitated. There couldn't possibly be any danger in allowing a beaten man to lick his wounds, could there?" Tavington moaned and grimaced as he made his fingers slightly move for the purpose of demonstration.

Eventually Judith couldn't help but take some kind of compassion on him. Gradually she granted him some small scope to pick himself up and examine the state of his hand.

"I thank you, Madam." Tavington said somewhat tormented, while taking a sitting position, not failing to move Judith to further pity. He cared to make the whole procedure look more serious than it really was, not ashamed to lay it on thick when he peeled off the glove. True, it caused him pain to move his fingers, but the ability to do so wasn't impaired at all.

She could have hit him worse. Tavington had no doubt that the spade could have been an equally deadly weapon as the saber, if only used purposefully enough. She had hit him with the flat side twice. Consciously or not – in all probability it meant that she didn't intend to seriously harm him.

However, it wasn't yet enough to consider himself safe. Whether he was right in his reading of her actions, remained to be seen. He took his time to strip off the glove, devising ways and means how to get more clarity.

Once the supposed badly injured hand came to light not a single drop of blood or bruising would show. "Who would have thought?" he joked without humor. The missing blood, of course, didn't well correspond to the show of pain he'd been so eager to display. _No blood?_ His eyes narrowed and an idea began to form. He gave another groan as he carefully rubbed his would-be damaged hand. "Has to be some internal injury the way it hurts. Did you know there are at least twenty-seven bones in the human hand to break?" Tavington paused. One look at her concerned face told him clearly that his mentioning had been a further push to her disquiet. "Alright. So, how do we go on now? What is it you want me to do?"

Now that the question was out, it became quite clear that Judith must have feared it all the time. She was not able to give an immediate order. Obviously he'd caught her completely off guard.

And indeed, Judith had never seriously expected to take the victory. What did she want him to do? She had not reckoned on the possibility to ever get the better of him. She had never ever hurt a person on purpose before. To put the saber against his throat was one thing, to actually stab him was another. She was not sure if she could really do that. But what on earth was she supposed to do with a disarmed Butcher when merciless retaliation was out of the question? Actually, she wanted him to go. She wanted him to just leave her alone. Vanish into thin air and never get back to her. She wanted to him to quit her life forever. She could hardly tell him that.

But what, what should she do with him? Maybe she could bind him anywhere on the farm and take the horses with her. He wouldn't be able to follow her once he would free himself. She'd be off and away before he could take up her track.

"Can you walk, Sir?"

Tavington was pleased to hear her speak with such feeble concerned voice. Inwardly he cheered. The show hadn't been wasted on her; she was about to swallow it and fortune began to smile upon him again.

"I shall try," he said with a set face.

"Very well. I want you to go over there. I'm going to bind you just as you bound me."

"Slowly, slowly, _I_ didn't bind you. Remember, I offered you to move freely? It was your friend James Wilkins who…"

"Shut up!" Judith spat at him and the blade whizzed back at his throat again.

"Alright, alright. I understand. There is no playing games with you," he quickly affirmed her to be the one in command. He had to accept that she had the advantage over him at the moment. Yet, Tavington smiled to himself as he saw her uneasiness. It was so obvious he almost could smell it. Would this bundle of uncertainty finally muster up the nerve to hurt or even kill him? However, he'd once been mistaken in her. His position was still too uncertain for him to risk underestimating her capabilities a second time without a clearer understanding where she stood. It was about time to test her limits.

"Very well. So tell me, where do you want me to go. Here? Or there?" He swayed his head from one side to the other, and in the last bit of his movement he purposely cut himself with his own blade. Not much, just a little blood to test her fortitude.

"Don't!" Judith shouted, looking aghast at the small slash. "You must be more careful, Sir." That was not what she wanted. When she saw the blood on the blade she had nearly dropped the saber. "I am… sorry", she said somewhat embarrassed.

That was all the proof Tavington had needed. She wouldn't do any further harm to him, not since she apologized for scratching him. "Why would you be sorry? That just leaves us even."

Judith felt how it was wearing her out to be torn between decency and anger.

"We'll never be even, Sir!" Judith hissed resentfully. It drove her mad to see the casual way in which he made light of all the things that had happened. "You've killed Sarah without so much as having any right or reason. You disgraced me. Where do you take the temerity to think that there might be anything in this world that could ever redeem you from such crime? There's nothing, you understand, _nothing _that could possibly be inflicted on you which would ever leave us even!" She glared at him out of a pair of unforgiving eyes.

Tavington held her gaze completely unmoved.

"Nothing? Really?" he inquired airily, while a wicked smile began to spread from the corners of his mouth all over his face. "Well, I thank you for this affirmation. I will confess that I'm rather relieved to learn that I was indeed correct to assume you wouldn't kill me – despite the fact that, one might say, I supplied you with more than one reason."

While speaking, he slowly had risen to his feet and now was walking toward Judith, who, voluntarily or not, gave him space to do so.

"What?" Judith nervously tried to comprehend what was going on. She was taken aback to find him twisting and bending her words just to his use. And why did she give way to him? It greatly worried her to notice that the weapon in her hand apparently didn't mean that much to him anymore. Inexorably closing in on her, Tavington forced her to remove the saber according to his liking. Judith made an attempt to set him straight: "What do you think you're doing there? You seem to forget that I'm holding the saber against you."

"Do you?" Tavington replied little impressed. He approached her frontally now. He did not even care to avoid the contact of the saber against his chest. Especially not as he didn't sense much resistance. "You see, it's not the weapon that kills people, it's the person holding the weapon in their hand. It takes more than brains and courage to do a thing like that. Are you sure you can do it?"

"Be quiet!" Aghast, Judith witnessed the Colonel continuing to act on his own accounts. It wasn't yet clear to her, but the instant Judith had started to consider, the saber had started to prove ineffectual. It was as if it had turned into a wooden stick that was whittled away piece by piece with every step the Colonel made her move backward. "Stop!" she desperately demanded.

"You want me to stop? Then let us get to it, Judith. Are you prepared to do your worst? Can you kill me? For this is the only way you can stop me. Do it, thrust your weapon at me. Just do it!" Tavington encouraged her as he grew more and more sure of his ground.

With the emotional tangle of Judith's mind now so evident in her confused and panicked expression, Tavington wasn't afraid of anything she might do. He could have easily wrenched the saber from her at any time by now. But he wanted her to come to terms about this matter. If he overwhelmed her it was his victory, but more than that he wanted it to be her defeat and for her to be conscious of it. Patience and level-headedness were the needs of the moment.

While he had established his reputation as a ruthless soldier, who was widely known and feared for his brutal methods, Judith still had to come to terms with the range of her capabilities. Tavington remembered well what it had been like, when he had once stood face to face with the first human he had ever killed. It had been quite demanding to overcome one's scruples to take a life.

"I know you're still searching for an easy way out," he said almost sympathetically. "But rest assured, Madam, at this point of the game there is none. You have to make your choice."

He knew the emotional chaos raging in her only too well: the doubts, the reasoning, the pressure to make a decision, the hesitation, the lack of time in the face of the enemy, the inhibitions, the fear, the critical moment of the first time. It afforded a lot of strength to see it through when weighing all the consequences.

Judith evidenced to be that strong and secretly he met her effort to contemplate her action with great approval. He knew about men who, in the heed of the moment, had traded their souls for their lives. They had killed to survive but were broken for the rest of their life, never getting over it to have ultimately become a murderer.

From whatever angle one liked to look at it - killing was an awkward lesson to learn.

Judith was still retreating in a constant backward movement, desperately intent to come to a conclusion. The saber persistently denied its services to her. She now grasped the handle with two hands. Alas, she might as well have dropped the saber it wouldn't have made any difference. Tavington had taken the lead.

"Please, Lord, I beseech you, just this one time: Stand by me!" she spoke a fast and fervent prayer.

Tavington raised a brow. "Oh yes, naturally, what a splendid idea to ask help from above," he commented scornfully. "I only doubt it will work. You see, it's always the same old story," he shook his head, pretending to feel with her. "Believe me, I know the pain. It's such a nasty habit of the Almighty. He just never shows up when He's needed the most, does He? Better to rely on oneself. So, what will you do?"

Judith was terribly afraid she didn't know that. She was at her wits' end. She had managed to turn his own weapon against him. Every person with even half their wits about them would have yielded to the dictate of a sharp blade. Why couldn't he just act like an average man would do? And why couldn't she just act as pitilessly as he would have done? To thrust the saber at him seemed an insurmountable obstacle to her. So, what else could she do? "Gracious Lord! So help me, please! I can't do it. I just can't do it."

Tavington smiled condescendingly. "Yes Judith, your are facing the truth now, your truth: When it comes down to it, you are incapable of murder. It won't go together with your morals."

Judith could say nothing in return nor did she have any other thing to put up to him. Having no choice but cede to his unabated advance, Judith marched on backwards until Tavington had driven her against the barn wall.

Their eyes met and there was no doubt left who had lost the cause.

"Now, give me the saber," he instructed her calmly. "It is of no use to you anyway. You do not really want to keep it. You are yearning to get rid of it. It's a burden to you, no defense. Just give it back to me. I trust you to be smart enough to understand the game is over."

Tavington stretched out his hand until she felt his touch against the back of her hand. This hand of hers holding the saber suddenly seemed to develop a life of its own as it fell into an uncontrollable shiver.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" she stammered helplessly. She was shocked to see how right Tavington was. She didn't want to keep the saber. It didn't serve her the way she had reckoned it would. It _was_ a burden to her. She could not bring herself to actually use it.

She saw Tavington opening his hand, making ready to take the saber from her. It was so alluring to just give the weapon away. To resist the temptation of vengeance. He offered her the chance to remain guiltless. What was a broken word compared to murder? "Forgive me, Sarah, I can't do it," she whined low-voiced as she slightly opened the grip on the handle.

"Good girl. You truly are a brave one. I shall give you some credit for it," Tavington affirmed to her the decision to defer to the demands of her conscience. "Now give me the saber and I'll promise to be merciful."

Judith swallowed hard. She knew the way his mercy worked. However, having experienced his means of torture, the prospect to die fast seemed suddenly acceptable.

"Will you care to make it quick, please?" she voiced a last wish.

"Just give me the saber," he insisted.

Only a moment later his weapon was back in his hand. Tavington was more than compliant to Judith's request as he finally set an abrupt end to her ordeal. As soon as the grip of the saber was firmly in his grasp he swung back with it, brought his hand forward again with lighting speed and struck the brass cap of its pommel straight against her temple. Judith didn't even sense it when she crashed to the ground knocked out cold by one swift movement.


	18. Refreshment

_A/N :Huh? Another update? Yeah! Just admit it, you never thought you'd ever see this happen. At some point, I know I didn't. Anyway, here it is. I just hope that there are still some of you who can remember what happened so far.(I know its been a while…) However, what I do remember is one gentle reader's promise to do a chair-dance on that very occasion. ;) Ha-ha.__:)__)) Well then, have a good time. One, two, three… here you go!_

Chapter 18 – Refreshment

Pain was the first thing Judith felt when she came round again.

She felt so badly wrecked and worn that she did not even think it possible to ever open her eyes again. Avoiding movement meant avoiding pain. And so, she simply lay still, breathing low and listening to the rushing in her head. Completely disorientated of time and place, she wondered what on earth had put her in such desolate state. Only slowly, her senses came to work again and within her great emotional disarray, it was one feeling that eventually gained prevalence: She sensed fear, a terrible fear for her life. Driven by such dreadful apprehension, Judith managed to abandon her self-imposed paralysis and ventured to take a blink at her surrounding.

She found herself lying on a hard wooden floor. For the moment, she couldn't make out much detail since the light was dim and her head still dizzy. All she knew was that the place was fairly unknown to her. She had no idea how she had gotten here or where she was. Wherever she was, heaven it was not. The mad throbbing in her neck told her clearly that she was still alive. She had no idea what or who had saved her from death, which she assumed to have escaped only closely. She frowned. The images in her head just wouldn't come together so that she couldn't say for sure which was the last thing she clearly remembered. Only with difficulty, she managed to sit up. Probed on her hands, she turned her head to take another look.

Judith was surprised to learn that she had been lying right next to a bed. Had she perhaps dropped out of it? No. The blankets were neatly set. What kind of a rescuer was this who didn't care to place her there instead of the floor? Judith rubbed her eyes to take the leaden tiredness from them. On second glance, she had to revise her former assumption that the light was dim. She simply had come to rest in the darker part of the candle lit room.

And it was an impressively vast room. The sleeping occasion was separated by a partition wall. Cautiously, she tried to catch a glimpse on the rest of the chamber where the main source of light came from. But since she felt too weak to wander around, she remained sitting and contented herself with a shy peer through the gaps and splits of the partition wall.

At the far opposite wall a fire crackled in the fireplace, providing the room with an agreeably sense of coziness. She spotted a table with almost a dozen of chairs standing around it; exquisite furniture that seemed to be a well groomed. Simple farm houses usually had no such luxury and she knew practically no one of the local upper class society who might have taken care of her. Unless, perhaps, James … ? No, it didn't make much sense, of course. James was riding with the Dragoons…

The Dragoons! Menacingly gray shades of memory began to form... Judith held her head again and moaned when a new wave of pain pulsed through it.

"Headaches?"

Judith winced at the crisp voice that had cut through the silence. Terrified to learn that she wasn't alone, Judith whipped around. She froze when she saw who had spoken.

"You?!" She squeaked with dread and disbelief.

Colonel Tavington stood at a small washing table where he was busy shaving. Facing away from her, he made a point of refusing her the courtesy of turning his head to look at her.

Judith on her part didn't exactly mind. However, she couldn't help gaping as she felt an odd fascination when watching the blade gliding smoothly over the left cheek and jawbone of his keen-edged face. But any makings of appeal died in an instant, when his stern gaze in the mirror suddenly met her.

The mere reflection of his cold blue eyes was enough to scare her stiff. These merciless eyes were the source of unspeakable horror that invaded her body deep down to the innermost recesses of her heart. In a crack, Judith recalled everything that had happened. Panic mingled with her pain.

"No!" She screamed. Desperately, Judith's gaze went to the door, trying to measure the distance. Maybe she had a chance, if she could surprise him by running.

„I wouldn't recommend that."

Judith was terrified to see him guess her thoughts so easily. There was not thinking of flight. The last remains of her already badly scattered world of hopes and confidence threatened to tumble down on her ultimately. In a hasty attempt to back away from him, she knocked her head hard against the edge of the bed.

"Ouch!"

"You know, Madam, serves you just right", Tavington said, demonstrating complete indifference to her moans as he couldn't be bothered to stop in his momentary work. "You know as well as I do, Madam, that your antics more than warrant such inconvenience."

Dejected, Judith buried her face in her palms and fought hard to resist weeping. She remembered Tavington's conditions. To end up in a hysterical fit would be just as pointless as to venture to flee. Judith tried to stifle her sobs as well as possible, while digesting the ascertainment that neither fear nor flight would bring her anywhere.

The only flight she could take was the flight forward. Thus, Judith sought refuge in sarcasm.

"Is that the reason why I'm still alive, that you prefer watching me suffer? I thought you promised to be merciful."

"Did I?" Tavington pretended to recall the exact wording. "Well, yes", he said, assuming an air of innocence. "And I should think that is exactly what I was when I sent you straight to unconsciousness."

Judith snorted her disdain. "I'm afraid I don't quite see the mercy in being knocked out cold and carried off", she muttered, holding her head in two hands.

"You only say so because you have no idea what has happened while you were lost in unconsciousness. Consider yourself lucky that you are missing some very embarrassing moments."

This last remark was not wasted on her. Tavington smirked as he could observe how it set her thinking.

Judith frowned with anxiety. What kind of embarrassing moments was he possibly talking about? There was only one thing she could think of. A dark fear took hold of her, tightly clasping her heart. She barely dared putting it in words and yet she had to ask: "Did you rape me again?"

"Where would be the fun in this?" Tavington chuckled and cast her a condescending smile. "No, Madam, I think you are greatly mistaken in me to surmise I might do a thing like that."

"Am I?" The initial feeling of relief did not last. It disgusted her to see him pushing her suspicion so far away from him. "I have pretty good reason to assume such a thing. I clearly remember you exercising little restraint when you actually did _a thing like that_ to me, didn't you?"

"I will admit that I may have acted a little… impulsively when chastising you. However, I will not go so far as to apologize. You were asking for such severe punishment, were you not?"

Judith did not reply to this. The two of them clearly had very different angles to look on the subject. There was little point in discussing it. She held her head, trying hard to hold back her tears. Whatever the reason was that he hadn't finished her off, she had not the slightest intention to stay alive at the cost of going another time through hell.

Her voice was measured, even though a little hoarse in regard of the consequences of what she was going to say. "You had more than enough opportunities to kill me. Why don't you finally seize one?"

Judith had never seen it coming. The very next moment, she got violently forced to the ground. Tavington had literally put his foot down. Without care or concern, he'd trod on her chest, holding her down unceremoniously. The tip of his boot pressed so hard against her throat that it nearly cut her breath off.

"Well, there is a time for everything" Tavington said, his voice an irate hiss. "You see, Madam, for tonight, it wasn't my intent to kill you, but if you don't stop talking to me like that I shall consider to change my tune. And unlike you…", he brought the razor blade close to her face as he spoke, "…I am perfectly capable of doing my worst. Do we agree on that?"

"Yes."

Judith gasped. Any thought she might consider death as a loophole out of her distress was cleaned out instantly. Her terrified gaze darted between his irascible eyes and the keen edge of the blade, the tip of which threatened to cut the tender skin below her left eye any moment.

"You pity yourself for being at my mercy. Be sure to think that there is worse than this. Outside there, eight men are waiting for their execution tomorrow at dawn. You don't possibly fancy to change places with them, do you?"

"No."

"Well then, behave yourself. I told you, you would come along with me and here you are. It appears that you don't listen to what I say." Slowly, he let the blade run over her cheek.

In a helpless attempt to evade from the situation, she closed her eyes.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Judith jerked with terror, but her eyes flipped wide open again.

"Right so. It is high time for you to finally stick to my orders. As it is, I asked you to show some guts instead of pleading and moaning. Remember that?

"Yes."

"And do you think that begging me to kill you was so very courageous an act?"

"No." Numb with fear, Judith stared at him. She did not whine. She did not sniff. These were the most silent tears she was ever going to cry. She knew he wouldn't approve of it. But there was nothing she could do to keep her tears from falling. Unchecked, they left the corners of her eyes, floating down in hot streams across her temples, trickling in her ears.

"Then let it be, do as I say and there'll be no need for you to worry. I'm not a raving fool. Bringing you here no more than proves me consequent in my doing. So, stop accusing me of things as long as you don't really fathom them. In fact, I've saved you from further pain and sorrow. I could have cared less. You ought to be more thankful."

He left her off as quickly as he had caught her.

Petrified, Judith remained lying flat on her back. It took her quite a moment to rally round from the shock. Her skin was covered in a film of cold sweat. When she began to struggle up, she had to make an unpleasant discovery. Tears and sweat hadn't been the only body juices that had flown freely from her. Embarrassed, she reached down to cover her mishap with a trembling hand.

Tavington who still towered above her, had already noticed the betraying wet patch on her lap, of course.

"Let this be a warning to you why I will not tolerate another funny idea of you."

With that he finally turned away and resumed shaving as if nothing had happened.

"That you dare complaining about your situation at all." Disapprovingly, he shook his head. "Do you have an idea how toilsome a task it is to shave with that damn slash here on my chin? It hurts like hell."

Judith thoroughly doubted that this little cut was anything comparable to her misery. "I hope it does!" she muttered under her breath, not intending to be actually heard.

"Saying anything?" He warningly looked right over the sharp edge of the razor blade.

"No!" she promptly shrieked.

"Funny", he said without the smallest indication of amusement, not taking his eyes off her. "I thought I saw you moving your lips."

Judith sensed him being close to lose his temper again.

"That's right", she quickly conceded. "I… I was just… I was… just wondering….whether…."

"What?!" His harsh demand left no doubt that she'd best speak in full sentences.

"Is there any good reason why you're taking the trouble of shaving in the evening?" Judith gaped at him. She was surprised herself that she'd got it out without faltering. She'd even sounded almost snidely. But having no serious intent to test him, she shyly added, "Sir?"

For one bad moment there was utter silence between them.

"I'm glad you ask", he finally said, sounding nonchalant again.

Judith saw that smirk returning to the corner of his mouth as he skillfully finished the last strokes of his shave. It was an expression on him she'd clearly learned to prefer to any other play of his features. She breathed again, obviously she'd somehow managed to meet the right tune.

Nimbly, Tavington rinsed away the last remainders of soap. He fetched a towel and dried his face.

"Well", he said, inspecting the final result of his work in the mirror, "that is what civilized people do when they intend to have dinner and do not want to offend others with their scandalous appearance not to mention the offensive smell." With that, he turned towards Judith and cast her a meaningful look.

"Oh," it escaped her. It put her to the blush, when Judith saw him referring to her own person. Embarrassed, she lowered her head. She had to admit it. Compared to him, she appeared like a neglected savage freshly dragged off the woods. She reached for her hair only to find that it was in a unkempt muddle of greasy and sandy strands. The rest of her exterior wasn't exactly any better. But what in all the world would it ever be to him? "Why is it that you care at all, I wonder? You surely don't wish to dine with me."

"As that filthy, smelly mess that you are? Certainly not, Madam!" he said with honest disgust. "First you will have to wash yourself and make you look like a woman again, of course. If you hurry a little, the water will not yet have chilled out."

Judith gaped at him in confusion. He surely was having her on. He couldn't possibly in fact mean to generously grant her the opportunity to take a bath, could he? It took her a moment before it really got to her: It had been an order, no invitation. Another look at Tavington's stern face affirmed her on it without the shadow of a doubt. And yet, Judith could barely grasp it. Apparently he truly meant to have dinner with her.

She tore her eyes off him and stared into nothingness. While the prospect on something to eat was tempting, the idea of taking a bath in his presence was absolutely distressing. However, she knew him well enough by now not to defy him.

After all, he was right. He could have cared less, indeed. And even though Judith didn't really see his reasons, why would she not accept the offer? If he wanted her to sit in a tub, she would end up there sooner or later anyway. All in all, it wouldn't exactly do any good to disagree.

Thus, Judith slowly rose to her feet. In a subdued manner and on shaky legs she made her way to the bath tub where she stuck her fingers into the water. He had been right. It was still warm enough to use it a second time. There was even more water in the tub than she would usually have been granted on bathing day.

Judith cast Tavington a most bashful glance and got an idea that there was little reason to assume he might at least turn around. Her stomach cramped at the thought of undoing her clothes under his observation once again.

Tavington did not bother to speak another word. He merely raised a brow, as if to ask just what the hell she was waiting for?

Judith couldn't help blushing as she knew he had guessed her scruples, of course, and now feasted his eyes on her shame. She wished for something, anything, to hold on, but there was none. She dug her fingernails into her palms until it hurt and nervously bit her lip.

'_I could have cared less,'_ she recalled his words again. There was something to it. He wasn't anything obliged to give her the chance to get some cleansing. Yet he did. Judith told herself to focus on the positive aspects in order to stand this through. At least she still had the liberty of avoiding to watch him riveting his eyes on her. Judith lowered her eyes and started, all but reluctantly, to strip off her clothing.

"Very well", he voiced his approval. Then, without further ado, he turned around and left the room.

He'd caught her by surprise. Somewhat clueless, Judith stared at the closing door. Whatever he was up to, for the moment she felt grateful and was undeniably relieved to see Tavington leaving the room. When she heard the key being turned in the lock, though, Judith gave a mirthless laugh. Where would she have gone with nothing but rags on her back?

Instead of continuing to undress, she walked over to the window. Judith simply couldn't withstand the temptation to risk a glimpse out of her confinement. Maybe it got her an idea where she had actually been taken. Cautiously, she pulled the drapery a little aside and glanced her eye over a torch lit yard. There wasn't much she could make out in the flickering light. Of course, there were British soldiers all around. Most of them seemingly out of duty as they stood together talking, laughing even, or just retiring at a leisurely pace to their quarters. No sign of James, however.

A sudden rumble made Judith wince behind the curtain. And while no one else appeared particularly perturbed by it as if it was a familiar sound to the men outside, it thrilled Judith to the core when she saw where it had come from. A heavy bag was swinging only a few feet above the ground, its upper end fixed in a noose. It had just fallen through a trap-door, affirming the gallows' flawless functionality. No doubt, it was a last check for the execution tomorrow morning. Just as Tavington had told her.

Judith shivered. She wondered whether the poor, sentenced fellows had been condemned to watch this, too. It was only then that Judith discovered another, considerably less comfortable sort of incarceration in one corner of the yard. In a small cage several men were held captive; they could barely stand upright nor was there place enough for all of them to lie or sit down at one time. They had been able to watch it, just as they would be able to watch the gallows all night long. Judith saw their strong hands desperately clinging to the bars. She was about to close her eyes, when she thought to recognize someone familiar among them. No, it couldn't be, could it? It was too dark and the distance was too far to really see their faces, and yet the resemblance was just striking. Judith tried to catch a closer look, but her view got barred. Someone crossing the yard had stepped between them and Judith lost her sight on the person in question.

She wanted to curse him but ended up shrieking. The man had swiftly turned and now looked straight in her direction. It was Tavington whose devilish gaze scarred her to death. As if he'd sensed that she was standing behind the curtain, wasting her time with spying. Nothing seemed hidden to him. Quivering with fright, Judith let the curtain go.

'Look on the good side of it,' she urged herself. Seeing him there would mean she had some time on her own. How long, though, she couldn't tell. Quickly, she stripped off the rest of her clothing and took the recommended bath.

The water was still acceptably warm and once Judith had stepped into it, she got aware of how much her body was longing for some cleanup and relaxation. She reached for soap and sponge and started to wash herself before the colonel would return. And there was no doubt that he would.

When she was done washing her hair, Judith leaned back and let her body sink into the water until only the tip of her nose was above the waterline enabling her to breathe. Any noise was muffled under the water. She felt far away from the outer world, alone with herself, light as a feather drifting through her own little cosmos.

And suddenly it was there, that fateful yet tempting question: Wouldn't it just be nice, if it could stay like that? He could lock her away, deny her any rights or justice, but she still had the liberty of ending it at her own discretion. All she would have to do was to bring her head a few inches lower, right now, allowing the water to swallow her entirely. Before he knew it, she would slip through the supposed close-meshed web of his power once for all. It'll be a matter of seconds and there would be eternal calm and peace for her. Judith breathed in and held her breath. How long would it take before it was over? Really just seconds? Or rather minutes? Doubts stole upon her she might not be strong enough. Judith breathed out again, giving herself time for reflection.

She clearly heard that little voice within her head hat told her she wasn't ready to go. Not yet. Just another moment of staying alive. And maybe yet another one? It wasn't that easy to tell. How could she ever be sure it was the right time for her to leave? What would it be like to go where Sarah had already gone? Would she ever get there? No she couldn't do it. She just wasn't that brave.

There surely was a reason why she did not dare. Maybe there wasn't everything lost yet. Maybe there was still a chance for her. Maybe, she could still get out of all of this, if only she would stand this through. Somehow. Anyhow.

It wasn't much. But it kept her breathing.

Eventually the water chilled. Judith thought it best to get out of it as long as she was alone in the room. She emerged from the water and removed some foam from her face. When Judith opened her eyes again, her heart nearly missed a beat. Ashamed and shocked at equal parts, Judith was stunned to find Tavington standing right next to the tub, observing her.

How was this ever possible? She had not heard him come. She had no idea how long he'd already been back. Apparently, she'd become absorbed too much in those destructive thoughts. Somewhat clumsily, she covered her breasts, albeit asking herself to what point and purpose.

What must he think of her now that she had presented herself in such an obscene position to him? Had he just taken pleasure in watching her? Or had he guessed her ulterior considerations? Would he have interfered, if she had mustered up the courage to dip in the water? She wouldn't know and she certainly wouldn't ask.

Tavington had brought a bucket of steaming water along with him. Apparently he meant to prolong her bathing-time. Without a word of warning, he poured it into the tub. Judith felt how the two different tempered masses of water were mixing up and it roused an unexpectedly nice prickling on her skin. Adding to this effect, Tavington stirred the bathing water with his hand. Of course, he happened to touch her legs and on this occasion he began to stroke them tenderly.

Judith pulled her knees close to her breasts. "Please, Sir, there's no need for this. I'm done washing", she said, hoping he would stop his present actions.

"You are done washing when I say so", he shattered this hope straight away. Thus, he took the sponge and stepped behind her, letting it carefully run up and down her back. Tavington cared not to rush it. He took his time to caress her from neck to buttock.

Judith sat in front of him, still and firm as a rock. But Tavington just marvelled at her fresh and fine-looking body. Engrossed in the sight of her pleasant curves, he took unspeakable pleasure in touching her warm and soft skin, sensing the firm flesh below. Covetously, he intensified his efforts. She was like an uncut jewel in his hands. And he knew how to work her. It afforded barely more than a good polish, to make her his gem in the treasury. Tavington smiled. Yes, he would form her to his liking. Oh yes, he would.

When Judith noticed that he obviously didn't intend to harm or afflict her, she agreed to his doing. She closed her eyes, simply fading out the inner voice that reminded her of the indecency of the situation, allowing herself to enjoy it instead. While her mind didn't understand how this was ever possible, her body was considerably less moral. Her strained muscles clearly welcomed his strong fingers working her neck as they dexterously massaged the tension away. Judith never realized it when she sighed in contentment.

"You're not much of a pretender, are you?"

"I've never had a reason to pretend anything that way", she said.

"Clearly." He was pleased to think that he had been the first man who had laid hand on her. "However, you can get out there now. I'm ready."

He stepped back and watched her observantly.

Judith hurriedly searched the near surrounding, wondering where her clothes had gone.

"Where is my dress?" she asked timidly.

"You called that a dress?"

"Where is it?" Judith insisted.

"Not here."

His briefness implied he wasn't likely to discuss. Wherever her clothing had gone, it wouldn't be returned to her. Judith understood that she had to leave the tub.

"Please, Sir, can I have at least a towel then?"

Without taking the trouble to actually give an answer, he turned around and fetched for a towel. With a broad smile on his face, he held out his arm and offered it to her.

Judith measured the distance and it was clear that she would never be able to pick the towel while sitting in the tub. He didn't make any efforts to draw nearer. She was in his hand and he made her realize it. There could be no doubt what she was supposed to do.

Reluctantly, Judith emerged from the bath water and climbed over the edge of the tub. She felt the chill of fresh air against her wet skin. Though she was not aroused, Judith noticed that her nipples were almost boldly erect. It was mortifying and the effect of his considerate massage was gone with the wind. However, she valiantly approached him.

But Tavington wasn't yet done in his effort of increasing her humiliation. Placidly, he waited for her to come closer. Just when she was reaching for the towel he opened his hand and let it drop. Instead of the towel she happened to touch his hand and pulled back as if the mere contact had hurt her.

"I'm dreadful sorry." He sneered. "Must still something be wrong with the hand."

"Bastard", it escaped from her through gritted teeth.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Judith swiftly ducked to pick up the towel and hurried to withdraw from his immediate range. She didn't take the trouble of rubbing herself dry. She just covered her nakedness, seeing to get herself behind the partition wall.

It was a questionable shield to any serious encroachment of him. All the more as she saw him closing in on her in a most sinister way. Judith trusted him to smash it to bits without hesitation.

However, the issue was never solved as they got interrupted by a knock on the door. For this time, Tavington left it at a fierce look.

"Come in!" he ordered.


End file.
